


You Can Trust Me

by TongueTiedRaven



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Adult Mabel Pines, Alternate Universe - Relativity Falls, Bill Cipher is a Jerk, Bullying, Coming of Age, F/M, Family Feels, Filbrick Pines Is A Jerk, Gay Ford Pines, Gen, Gnomes, Graunty Mabel, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Magic, Mostly Stan's pov, Mystery Shack, Supportive Mabel Pines, The Journals (Gravity Falls), The Power Of Mabel, Time Travel, Trusting someone, Unrequited Love, Young Stan Twins, supportive brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2020-10-12 22:30:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 152,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20571992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TongueTiedRaven/pseuds/TongueTiedRaven
Summary: It all started when Stan and Ford found an old journal out in the woods that cataloged the unusual occurences found in Gravity Falls. A journal with a cryptic warning."Remember, in Gravity Falls, there is no one you can trust!"This town was weird. The people were strange, but so were the people in New Jersey. It was the other things Stan found weird. The silent woods, the glimpses of weird shapes out of the corner of your eyes… Things that were always gone by the time you focused on them. He’d woke up on their third morning to find that his mosquito bites seemed to spell out ‘beware.’ Or possibly ‘bewarb.’ He was pretty sure that was a typo though.The twins wanted a fun summer vacation with their Graunty. They didn't expect magic, demons, ghost, aliens, crushes, secret journals, or a surprise Great Uncle. Everything can change in a summer. Will their friendship? In Gravity Falls, is there really no one you can trust?





	1. Tourist Trap: Normal MAN!

_We're only here for a season_  
_I'm looking for the rhyme and reason_  
_Why you're born, why you're leaving_  
_What you fear and what you believe in_

_Why you're living and breathing_  
_Why you're fighting it and getting it even_  
_Let's go headed down the open road unknown_

_-Love alone is worth the fight (Switchfoot)_

It was day three in Gravity Falls and Stan was fairly certain they’d hit a bit of a groove. Graunty Mabel had more ‘Personality' than anyone else the twins had ever met. She was a bright, peppy person and ran what was probably the strangest tourist trap in Oregon. It was certainly the coolest one in Gravity Falls. Stan had only met her a few times in his life, and always at big family events. Like weddings or funerals. He liked her a lot already. She was a weird person who ran a ‘shitty tourist trap’ according to his dad. She always wore sweaters, no matter the weather, and she’d make each of them. She had her gray hair pulled back in a loose braid today with her fez on. She’d stitched a shooting star to the pink fez that made it less imposing than the shiner hat his dad was always wearing. She had a bunch of bracelets on each wrist and bright pink earrings. She was always waving her hands around when she spoke so they made lots of noise. She’d hand made all the weird exhibits at the mystery shack. Most of them were cutesy things that weren’t Stan’s style but a few were scary looking. Most of them were puns as well. 

Graunty Mabel had made pancakes this morning and they were loaded with chocolate chips as well as a variety of sprinkles. She let them put as much maple syrup and chocolate syrup as they wanted. She’d used up all the whipped cream the previous night or she would have let them use that as well. Stanley had eaten at least ten of them and was looking a little green around the gills now. 

Mabel was sipping her coffee now and working on a sweater. They’d open the Mystery Shack in half an hour and that would be when the other two employees showed up. He hadn’t talked to them much. One of them employees was Wendy Corduroy, who ran the cash register, preferred to read her magazines or surf her phone when she was here. Fiddleford McGucket, the handyman, was nice but quiet. He was always tinkering with some invention or other. Mabel let them work in the shop and gave them a little of the cash the Shack would earn. They’d made twenty bucks so far. Stan was already planning on using his funds to help repair the boat they’d found back in New Jersey. 

“I need somebody to go into the forest today to hang these signs.” Mabel motioned towards a pile of wooden signs in the corner with her knitting needles. The yarn she was working with was a deep red and looked soft. 

“I thought you said we weren’t allowed in the woods.” He immediately replied. He belched loudly and slumped further in his chair. Ford was grinning at him from across the table and he returned the smile. 

“You’re not to go  _ far _ into the woods.” She said as though it were obvious. “We’ve had a few customers get lost trying to find us. I don’t want anyone getting lost out there. Especially if they were trying to find us. She looked out the window with a hint of a frown. That was the only real problem Stan saw with their vacation here. Mabel had promptly told them they were not allowed to go explore in the vast woods behind the shack. She’d stated something about wild animals and hunter traps and then dropped the subject. She’d get fidgety if they ever mentioned it. 

“I’ll go!” Ford jumped out of his chair and made his way towards the signs.

“No fair,” Stan moaned, “I want to go too.” Ford had reached the signs at that point and lifted one up. Mabel had obviously done them herself. They were covered in glitter, smiley faces, and neon colors. There was no way you’d miss them in the forest. 

“Both of you can do it.” Mabel declared with a decisive head nod. “I’d prefer that, actually. Don’t go too far into the woods.”

Stan peeled himself out of the chair and went towards the signs before Mabel intercepted him with a ‘wash up first!’ Stan raced up the stairs to the bathroom as fast as he could. He scrubbed his hands and face clean and noticed he’d got syrup in his hair. He rinsed that out as well because he knew Mabel would send him back up if he didn’t. Satisfied and far less sticky, Stan ran back down stairs. Ford had lugged the signs to the foot of the stairs and then left them there. Stan took it for the hint it was and picked them up. They were heavier than they had looked.

“Let’s go, Sixer!” He ran towards the door, barefoot and excited. It was a pleasantly cool day and early enough that they didn’t have to deal with customers yet. 

They wandered into the woods behind the house haphazardously. They were used to exploring Glass Shard beach at all hours without any parental consent. Why should a forest be any different? 

The atmosphere in the woods was instantly different to that of the shack. The air was clear and there was a slight breeze rustling through the leaves. It should have been perfectly pleasant. Instead it was quiet. Far too quiet. It took Stan a few minutes to figure out that that was the problem. The noise of animals and life had basically stilled. It made you feel on edge instantly even though it was hard to figure out why. It also felt like they were being watched even though there was nothing around. 

He paused in his trek forward to look over his shoulder and sure enough, Ford looked uncomfortable too. Good. It wasn’t just him then. His brother didn’t seem to notice his pause. He was scanning the trees uneasily.

“Do you think this qualifies as ‘not too far,’ Sixer?” Stan turned abruptly and indicated the trees around them. Ford bumped into him and caused him to drop a few signs. A bit of glitter fell off of them but they were unhurt otherwise. 

“Sure.” Ford replied as he straightened his glasses. Stan dropped the rest of the signs and took one of the hammers from Ford. He grabbed a handful of nails and stuck them in his mouth before grabbing a sign from the pile. Ford followed his lead and went to the nearest tree. They were both good at hammering things at this point. They’d found an abandoned boat last year and had started repairing it together.

He put the sign against the tree and brought the nail up. 

“Just so we’re clear,” Stan called to Ford who was about twenty feet away, “We’re not going back after we get these up, right? We’re going to explore at least a little?”

“Agreed.” Ford responded promptly. He swung his hammer at the nail and promptly found his hand bouncing back as a loud, metallic, ‘CLANG’ filled the air. Stan paused in his own hammering and turned to look at his brother. Ford was considering the tree with a frown. He set the sign down and hit the tree with his hammer again. It made the same metallic clang as before. 

“Sixer?” Ford glanced back at him and shrugged. He hit the tree again and this time part of the fake trunk moved. It was some kind of metal panel covered with a fake bark. He pried it open with the back of the hammer.

Stan ditched his own partially hung sign and went to his brother. He’d opened up what looked like some kind of control panel in the fake tree. There was what looked like some old radio/tv that had two switches on top of it. Some sort of antenna thing stretched up into the tree from it. Ford promptly reached for the switches. Ordinarily his brother would have been a bit squeamish about the bugs and spiders but apparently finding a secret control panel over rode his fears. 

“Cool!” Stanley exclaimed behind him. He couldn’t help himself. This was just like something from a comic book. Ford jumped and hit the switches hard enough to knock them loose. A giant spark went up the antenna thing and had Ford snatching his hand back. Stan felt a twist in his gut as Ford yelped in shock. He caught Ford’s shocked hand in his own and brought it up for an inspection before freezing. A loud clang filled the area and then a crash. They both spun around to see what had caused it. The signs had fallen from where they deposited them on the ground. They’d fallen into some kind of pit that had just opened up.

“Uh, Sixer?”

“I’m fine.” He answered the unasked question and made his way towards the trap door. Stan followed him over feeling even more uneasy. It was only a foot or so deep and there was something in the metal chamber. Ford promptly dropped to his knees and reached into the bug infested chamber. The object, which Stan could now see was a book, came free of the signs easily enough. Ford stood up with it and turned towards Stan.

“What is it?” His asked as Ford wiped the cover. It looked old and dirty. The notebook had been of nice quality at one time. Leather bound with gilded pages. Ford cleaned the front with his sleeve to reveal a golden pine tree with the number ‘3’ on it. 

“I’m not sure.” Ford finally replied. He lifted the cover gingerly to see if anyone had stamped it or written their name in it. There was a ripped sticker on the inside of the cover that said ‘This Journal is Property Of:.” The actual name had been ripped off. His eyes moved to the first page and he read the words out lod.

_ It’s hard to believe it’s been six years since I began studying the strange and wondrous secrets of Gravity Falls, Oregon. _

“What?” He asked out loud at the same moment as Ford. They grinned at each other before turning their attention back to the book. Ford flipped through a few pages. Stan caught glimpses of strange creatures and weird symbols before bold text caught his eye. Ford paused in his flipping to see what had been so important to the journal’s author. 

_ Unfortunately, my suspicions have been confirmed. I’m being watched. I must hide this journal before he finds it. Remember, in Gravity Falls, there is no one you can trust! _

“No one you can trust?” Stan read the words out loud with a frown. “What is this thing?” 

“I don’t know…” Ford trailed off lamely as he flipped back to the beginning. He began reading the first entries in the journal. 

“Why was it buried in that contraption? It’s just a book.” Stanley was moving the signs from where they had fallen into the chamber to see if there was anything else down there. It was empty except for a few weird species of bug. He looked around at the forest around them. It was still too silent. The wind had even stopped. It felt oppressively like they were being watched. Usually when it felt like this they were paid a visit by Crampelter. His protective instincts were on red alert.

This town was weird. The people were strange, but so were the people in New Jersey. It was the other things he found weird. The silent woods, the glimpses of weird shapes out of the corner of your eyes… Things that were always gone by the time you focused on them. He’d woke up this morning to a lot of mosquito bites. They seemed to spell out ‘beware.’ Or possibly ‘bewarb.’ He was pretty sure that was a typo though. 

Ford was still reading the weird old book. Stan would have to wait for him to finish it before he could have his brother’s attention again. He was only half aware of anything when he was reading a book. Half of his mind would always be on what he was reading even if he didn’t have the book with him. 

Stan focused his attention back on the signs in his hand. He could get them up while Ford focused on that book and then they could go exploring. They wouldn’t have long before Graunty Mabel came for them but they could at least look around. Who knew when they’d get the chance again?

It wasn’t hard to hang the vibrant signs. They were too bright and girly for his taste but they stood out brilliantly in the forest. 

He got the signs hung up and went back to Ford’s side. His brother seemed to sense his presence and glanced up at him. 

“The author just stops.” 

“What, like he was hurt?” Stan peered back down at the book and wondered who wrote it. 

“Well, maybe. But it seems strange that it would be hidden like that if the author was hurt. I think it’s more likely that he hid it himself. Or herself.” 

Stan draped his arm over his brother’s shoulder and smiled. He was hot and sweaty but he was ready to explore. 

“So what’s it about?” 

“Magical creatures and monsters and ghost!” Ford exclaimed in an excited rush of words. He flipped through some pages to show Stan what he was talking about. There was something called a Gremoblin, a Category 10 ghost, gnomes, zombies, and cursed doors. 

Suddenly this summer looked like it would be a whole lot more interesting. 

* * *

They made their way back to the shack without much exploring. It took them far too long to figure out how to shut the chamber back up. Then they’d had to figure out which way they’d come from to begin with. It had taken Ford climbing a tree while Stan nervously watched to see which direction the shack was in. 

It was past opening time when they returned and tourist were already milling about. Stan led the way into the Shack and past the gift shop. Wendy was at her usual post with a magazine while Fiddleford was fixing a rickety shelf. They could hear Graunty Mabel in the back giving a tour. 

“Come on,” he tugged on Ford’s arm and motioned towards the back room. “If we’re quiet we can get away without getting caught by Graunty.” Ford had mostly managed to stuff the book into his jacket but it was still poking out a little. 

They snuck as quietly as they could over the squeaky floor. Fiddleford and Wendy both watched them go with barely a glance. They got the ‘Employees Only’ door open when they heard Graunty entering the room. Stan shoved Ford through the door and promptly shut it. He leaned against it and then realized how obviously suspicious that would look. He dropped to the floor and pretended he was tying his shoe. He almost always had at least one shoe untied anyway. It was a perfect built excuse to stop walking or talking or act like you were doing something. Stan got in enough scrapes that it was necessary to have excuses and distractions. 

“Stan? That you?” He raised his right hand in the air and waved it so his Graunty could see him in the corner. She made her way towards him, her blue skirt swishing on the floor. It was at that moment he realized she wasn’t actually alone. There was a short, older man walking beside her. He had on a dark hoody despite the nearly ninety degrees it was outside. Then again, Mabel was wearing a sweater and Wendy always had a long sleeved shirt on so maybe people in Gravity Falls were just always a little cold. Stan was always hot and sweaty anyway. He’d walk around in his underwear if he could. 

“Hey, Graunty.” He stood up right and smiled at his Great Aunt. She had a smile on her face as well and looked genuinely cheerful. She had a great ‘showbiz’ expression she wore more often than not while she gave tours. Sometimes though her genuine smile would slip through. Stan liked that smile best. It made him warm and cheerful. 

“Oh good, I wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine.” She pushed the short man at her side forward. He stumbled awkwardly. It reminded Stan of the way Ford would walk when his legs fell asleep. The short man corrected himself and straightened. He thrust his hand out and waited awkwardly for Stan to take it. He finally did and was immediately disgusted. The man’s hand was cold and clammy and slightly sticky. 

“I’m Normal MAN!” He said the last word with far too much emphasis. Stan let his hand go and stepped back. It was the first time he saw the man’s face clearly and it was…  _ weird. _ His face seemed strangely proportioned. Not that Stan was one to judge typically. His brother had an extra finger after all. He was no stranger to abnormalities and typically he’d be protective of the people who had them. But something about this guy’s face felt too small. He also had something red all over his right cheek. It leaked down into his beard. It looked like blood.

“He means Norman.” Mabel said cheerfully. She poked ‘Norman’ in the side and laughed. She laughed at a higher pitch than she typically did and he realized she was blushing.

Wait, what? Her hand went to his arm after that and she paused at what she was feeling. “Ooh,” she murmured with a dreamy smile, “bit of muscle there.”

Oh God. His Graunty was flirting. She was flirting in front of him. Gross. 

“Uh, is that blood?” He asked for a lack of anything else to say. His hand groped at the door behind him. He found the door knob and seriously considered opening it. He couldn’t remember if it was a pull or push though. If it was a pull he’d be screwed. 

“Blood?” Norman asked in far too loud a tone. His hand went up to his cheek and felt what was there. He pulled it back with the sticky stuff attached to it and looked at his hand. “Oh. No. It’s jam.”

“Ha!” Mabel snorted loudly and smacked Norman on the back. “He has a sweet tooth like you Stan!” 

“Uh, yeah.” Where the hell was Ford? He’d had plenty of time to get that book upstairs by now. Stan would kill him if he was just goofing off and reading it right now. That would be just like Sixer. Stan’s dying in some awkward social situation so that nerd could read. 

“We’re going out for dinner tonight. Will you two okay here?”

“Uh,” he was saying that a lot. He had no idea how to handle this. His Graunty was  _ old. _ What was she doing dating someone? That was so gross. He couldn’t imagine her kissing anyone. He’d just seen her flirting and he didn’t need to see it again. And who was this creep? Who did he think he was trying to get with his Graunty? 

“That’s good.” She replied as though he had given her an actual answer. “I left some pizza in the fridge for you two. No soda with it and only one,” she poked him playfully in the stomach, “freezie pop.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “And eat a few carrots. I don’t want to lie when I tell your mom you’re eating your vegetables.” She reached down to grab Norman’s hand and tugged him back towards the exit. “I’ve got another tour to give. I’ll talk to you later.” She waved an excited little goodbye and went out the door. 

Stan immediately turned around and twisted the door knob. It was a push door and he got through with no problem. He raced down the hallway towards the stairs and stopped at the foot of them when he saw Ford coming down. 

“No!” He called out. He jogged up the stairs and met him halfway. “We’re going back up. I have updates of the gross kind.” Ford followed him up with a curious expression on his face. Stan shut the door behind themselves and went to the triangle shaped window in their room. He could see Mabel sitting on a bench they had outside. Norman was standing near her talking about something. He was even weirder looking from this angle. His body looked… lumpy.

Ford joined him at the window with a confused expression. He saw Mabel and Norman and frowned.

“Who is that?”

“His name is ‘Normal MAN!’” He said it the same way the weird man had and waved his arms for added effect. Ford leaned back in surprise. Stan laughed at the expression on his face. When Ford got startled and surprised he had a tendency to blink repeatedly with large eyes. Kinda like an owl. It was one of Stan’s favorite things. “Norman according to Graunty Mabel. She, uh. She’s dating him?” 

“Dating?” Ford turned his attention back outside and frowned. He said the word like it was some foreign concept. Which. Yeah. It was to them. Stan had almost gotten a few girls to date him but girls in New Jersey were stuck up and jerks. That was his opinion and he was sticking to it. Ford had never even gotten to ‘almost’ dating anyone. 

“Yeah, they were flirting and everything. It was  _ awful. _ ” He drug the last word out for emphasis and earned a laugh from Ford.

“Flirting? Eww, gross!” 

“Exactly!” He motioned out the window towards where Norman was talking with Graunty Mabel. “He’s weird too. His face isn’t right and he looks lumpy. His hand was horrible. All clammy and sticky.”

“Clammy?” Ford asked thoughtfully. He pushed his glasses up his nose and turned around. He went to his bed and reached between the mattress and bed frame. He pulled the journal out from the hiding spot and flipped through it. “I saw something about clammy earlier when I was flipping through the book.” Nerd. He had been reading while he was up here. Stan would get him back for that later. “Wait, here!” He pointed at the book with an excited finger and turned it so Stan could read it. The page had been titled ‘UNDEAD’ in a bold, loopy, font. There was an ink picture beside the text of a man dressed in a black hoody with a big nose. It looked strangely like Norman. 

“That thing?”

“Yes!” Ford exclaimed. He turned the book back around so he could read it. “Known for their pale skin, clammy touch, and bad attitude, these creatures are often mistaken for teenagers.”

“A zombie? Is that possible?” Stanford peered at him from over the book. He reached for Stan’s arm and tugged it forward. He turned it over and pointed towards the ‘Bewarb’ bug bites. 

“Your bug bites are spelling out a message.” He shrugged. “Zombies seem at least plausible. I’d also remind you we did in fact find this book buried in a secret chamber.” 

A terrible feeling suddenly twisted Stan’s gut. He turned back towards the window and pressed his face against it. He could see Norman stumbling towards Mabel. He was towering over her now that she was sitting. He had his hands raised and was bringing them towards Mabel’s head. No!

He banged his fist against the window. They were three stories up and wouldn’t be heard but he didn’t care. Ford was by his side in a second with the journal clutched nervously to his chest. 

“Graunty!” Stan shouted at the top of his lungs to no avail. The zombie reached her and Mabel made a high pitched noise of excitement. Stan choked on his shout and pressed his hand flat to the window in horror. Norman stumbled back a step and they saw there was now a chain of flowers on top of Graunty Mabel’s hat. 

“Oh god,” Ford gasped, “I thought he was going to kill her!” He stepped back and exhaled shakily. “Are we just being crazy?”

Stan shook his head fervently. He didn’t know if Norman was a zombie or not but he trusted his gut. And his gut was saying that Norman was not a ‘Normal Man’. Something was wrong. That man was not a good guy. He just knew it. He had an extra sense when it came to his family. He just knew when one of them was in danger. It had helped him find Ford before he got beat up on numerous occasions.

“I don’t know, Sixer.” He blew through his missing tooth and considered where Norman was falling into the seat beside Mabel. “I don’t think he’s right. He might not be a zombie, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous.” 

They hid the journal under Ford’s bed again and went back downstairs. They helped Wendy and Fiddleford with the gift shop for a while until it was lunch time. Mabel came back in with Norman in tow. They had a very awkward lunch together and then Stan was sent to blow leaves for a while. Normally he hated raking leaves, but any excuse to play with a power tool was fine with him. He did that until it was closing time. 

“Okay you two. No misbehaving. Well, don’t break anything and don’t hurt yourselves. We’re going out.” She grabbed her bag off the coat rack she kept it on. It was made of at least five different, glittery yarns. It looked like it had seen a lot of miles. She slung it over her shoulder and turned towards the twins. They were studying Norman who was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. He was stiff in his movements and was breathing heavily. His whole body seemed to be vibrating with the force of his breathing. 

Mabel placed her hands on their heads and ruffled their hair. She smiled before turning on here heel. “Come on, Norman!” She called cheerily as she exited the shop. Norman followed her out. Stan and Ford rushed to the window to watch them walk away. They were headed towards Mabel’s VW Bug. Norman opened the door for her and she climbed in. He shut the door behind her and Ford yelped. It took Stan a minute or two longer to figure out why.

Norman bent down to pick up his hand. His hand which had fallen off when he shut the car door. He stuck it back on the end of his arm and looked around to see if anyone had noticed.

“Graunty!” He yelled the word and scrambled to get hold of the door knob. They both reached for the knob at the same time. Stan beat Ford by a fraction of a second and twisted the knob. They both shoved the door open just in time to see Norman starting the engine. They ran for all they were worth only to see the car drive off into the woods.

“Oh no, oh no, what we do? What do we do?!” Stan gripped his hair and shouted the words as the car disappeared into the tree line.

“The golf cart!” Ford pointed frantically to the golf cart that Graunty Mable would use on tours. They ran over to it. Ford climbed on board while Stan paused and looked around. There was a shovel and a baseball bat leaning against the house. He grabbed them both and passed them to Ford before climbing on board. Someone had left the key in the ignition so they were able to start it without any problem. 

Stan, who wasn’t about to let his complete lack of driver’s training stop him, hit the gas pedal. The cart jolted off towards the woods. Ford frantically grabbed at the roof but didn’t say anything. Stan jerked the wheel to the right to avoid the trees and seriously over corrected. He jerked the wheel back to the left and then pulled the cart straight. Ford was starting to look a little green.

Thankfully, the VW Bug had left an obvious path to follow. They could still hear it crashing through the trees ahead of them. They sped after it, swerving to avoid trees and yelling when they got too close for comfort. Finally, after what felt like forever, they reached a clearing. The bug had pulled to a stop and both the car doors were open. 

“Hair! Hair! Hair!” They could hear Graunty Mabel on the other side of the car. They stopped the golf cart and both scrambled out. Ford passed him the bat and gripped the shovel. They both raised their weapons and round the cart to see-

What?

There were a lot of little figures running around Graunty Mabel. They were trying to climb up her even as she threw them off and punched at them. Several had gotten hold of her braid and were swinging from it. The hoodie was on the ground in front of her.

“Kids!” She yelped as another creature climbed up her sweater, “Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes and they’re major butts!” She punched the one that was climbing up her front. He fell and rolled over, barfing up a rainbow.

“Wow,” Ford said, “We were way off.” He groaned and shook his head. His glasses slid down his nose at the action and he pushed them back up. “The journal didn’t say anything about gnomes having a weakness.”

The gnomes knocked Graunty Mabel down and she cried out in pain. Both twins surged forward only to have an older gnome with an impressive beard stand in front of them.

“Don’t freak out! This isn’t what it looks like. My name’s Steve.” He dipped his head politely like he hadn’t just kidnapped their Graunty Mabel. “She’s just marrying all one thousand of us and becoming our gnome queen for all eternity. Right sugar?” He turned to look at Mabel with a sappy smile. 

“You’re a jerk and I-“ Two gnomes promptly covered her mouth. Stan made a motion to step around the little twerp and help his Graunty. There were about twenty gnomes on her now and they managed to bring her to the ground.

“You two think you can stop us? You have no idea what we’re capable of! The gnomes are a powerful race! Do not trifle with u-“ The old gnome’s rant was cut off abruptly by Ford. He scooped the gnome up with his shovel and tossed him away. Stan laughed as he tumbled into the dirt a few yards away. He ran up to their Graunty who was being tied down and kicked away the gnomes there. Ford hit the edge of the shovel against the strings they’d bound her with and they snapped. They both helped their Graunty up and ran towards the Bug.

“No!” She gasped, “it’s out of gas. Get in the golf cart.” She threw herself into the back while they climbed back in the front. 

“Take the wheel!” Stan told Ford. He gripped the bat tightly in his hand and knocked away a gnome who was trying to climb in the cart.

“Seatbelts!” She yelled before they could take off. They quickly complied and then Ford was sending them back towards the shack with a jolt. He was a worse driver than Stan had been. They nearly rammed into a tree before he got them on the path the Bug had made. 

“Hurry!” Mabel shouted with a frightened gasp. Stan twisted around in his seat to face her.

“Don’t worry, Graunty Mabel. Didn’t you see their tiny legs? They won’t be able to-” He cut himself abruptly and found his mouth popping open in disbelief. There was a huge shadow suddenly covering the golf cart as something giant formed behind them. It was bulky and bigger than the mystery shack. It blocked out the sunlight and it was charging towards them. It was far enough away that Stan could hardly make out what the shape was made of. But he knew that if he got close enough he’d see it was a thousand gnomes all connected to each other. 

“DRIVE!” He turned back to Ford and screeched the word at the top of his lungs. Ford had noticed the growing shadow at this point but he had no idea that the gnomes had formed a giant gnome. Like some sort of messed up transformer.

The gnome giants left drew back like it was winding up for a punch. It then flung the limb forward and Stan saw a bunch of tiny shapes hurtling towards them.

“Incoming!” He called out. Mabel raised her shovel and twisted around in her seat. Stanley readied the bat and swung at the first gnome to reach the cart. He connected with it’s legs and sent it hurtling into the forest. Graunty hit one as well and made her own sound effects for it. 

Ford gave a muffled yell. Stan’s head jerked to the right to check on him. A gnome had latched itself to his face and was digging his nails into Ford’s skin. Stan instantly punched at the ugly creature. Ford gave a muffled cry of pain and Stan switched tactics to tugging. He jerked the gnome off after a second and tossed it out the side. He took the bat back up and managed to hit a few more gnomes into the forest. 

Mabel swung with wild abandon. Stan ditched the bat in favor of punching. It was much more fun. His knuckles were bloody by the time they got out of the forest. Ford drove straight towards the Mystery shack. They crashed into the pile of leaves Stan had made earlier. Ford turned off the vehicle and scrambled out of the cart.

“What do we do?” Ford gasped. He had his arms wrapped around himself like he always did when he was scared or anxious. Stan stumbled out of the cart and fell on something hard.

He had an idea.

He got up stiffly and picked up the object he’d tripped on. 

“I’ve got an idea, Ford. Keep Graunty Mabel safe.” She was trying to climb out of the cart. She’d hurt her leg at some point during the adventure. He took a step towards the gnome-made giant.

“Stan, no!” Ford reached for him through the cart but he couldn’t reach Stan. His face was terrified and disbelieving. There was a part of Stan that was touched by his brother’s worry. The larger part of him was freaked out and wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. 

“Trust me, Ford. I got this.” 

Ford’s face contorted with fear and he shook it violently. “No! They’ll-”

“Trust me!” He nearly shouted the words. Ford blanched and looked at the towering form of gnomes. He swallowed thickly and looked back at Stan. Stan never hesitated to trust Ford. He knew his brother was smart and he didn’t mind putting himself in danger for him. It was  _ hard _ for Ford to trust and Stan knew that. His nerdy brain always got in the way. He was terrified of all the potential outcomes if his trust was broken. It could cripple him and had crippled him on more than one occasion. 

“Please, Sixer, trust me just this once.” 

Ford looked at him for another second, terror etched all over his face. He finally nodded stiffly and stepped back. Warmth bloomed in Stan’s chest and pushed some of his fear back. No one else ever trusted him. Not Ma, not his teachers, not Shermie, and certainly not Pa. Any time Ford took a leap of faith and put his trust in Stan, well… It made him feel like he could fly. Like he was worth something. 

He turned to the tower of gnomes and walked right up to the stupid old gnome that had abducted his Graunty Mabel. 

“Hey, shorty.” The gnome turned his baleful eyes on Stan and snarled.

“It’s Steve! We want the girl, kid, not you.”

“I know. But that’s not going to happen. You can leave or you can face the consequences.”

Steve stepped forward threateningly. Stan waited a beat and then pulled the item from behind his back. The leaf blower roared to life under his hand and Steve was pulled forward.

“Wait, what’s happening!” Steve cried out. Stan pulled the lever on the back down so that it would pull with full power. Stevewas sucked into the blower with only the top of his head and nose sticking out. 

“This is for taking my graunty.” He pressed a button on the side. “This is for punching me in the face.” He flipped another switch and put his hand on the lever. “And this is for hurting my brother!” He shoved the lever forward and shot Steve into the tower of gnomes. It came tumbling down in a confusion of gnomes. Gompers jumped forward and grabbed Steve by the hat before bounding away.

THe rest of the gnomes were moaning. He heard one ask for orders and another complain about being tired. He set the leaf blower back to ‘blow’ and aimed for the gnomes nearest him. They went tumbling into the other gnomes. They started to bolt for the forest. 

“Hey Sixer,” He called over his shoulder with a delirious smile, “looks like they got a few weaknesses after all.” Ford laughed and Stan felt like he was flying. 

* * *

They had a dinner of cold pizza together. Mabel let him have two freezie pops but he had to eat his carrots. Which he didn’t mind. 

They sat in the living room after dinner watching the local Gravity Falls movie channel. Stan had never heard of any of the movies on it. None of them seemed to be any good. They’d watched “The Widdlest Wampire”, which was terrible, and were halfway through “Help, My Mummy’s a Werewolf!”

“I, uh, want to thank you both for saving me.” Mabel said while the werewolf movie went to commercials. Both twins turned towards her with expressions of surprise. “I know I told you not to go into the woods, and I, uh, guess you can see why now. This town it’s, um, not right. There are some seriously dangerous things here. I don’t want anything to happen to you two.” She reached into her yarn back and pulled out two lumpy objects. “I was working on these before today’s weirdness but this seems like as good a time as any to give these to you.” She passed one lumpy budle to Stan and the other to Ford. Stan instantly tore the polka dotted paper apart to see what was inside. 

It was a sweater made from the soft, dark, yarn he’d seen her working with earlier. She’d stitched a fish on the chest with a circle on his mouth that looked like he was either eating something or had just gotten caught on a hook. 

His eyes shot up to see Ford holding up his own sweater. It had an open book stitched on the front with what looked like a little wisp of smoke coming from it. Like a spell book or something. 

She’d made them unique sweaters. No one ever bothered to give them distinct gifts. Any time they were given clothing it was always matching. This was cool, and it suited them. 

He was the first twin on his feet but Ford was only a second behind him. They both wrapped their Graunty Mabel in a hug.

“That wasn’t the only thing.” She said with a thick voice. They released her and didn’t comment on the tears in her eyes. “You can both pick out something in the gift shop tomorrow. Whatever you want. Free of charge, obviously.”

The show came back on with a loud scream that made all three of them jump. They sat back down to watch the horrible show. Stan and Ford much warmer in their new sweaters. 

* * *

“One hundred and fifty!” Ford said triumphantly. He was lying on his back playing with his paddle ball. Ford was on his bed with the journal in his lap. He’d been writing something for the last few minutes. 

“Whatcha writing?” He asked the question with a smile. 

“Nothing much.” Ford answered. HE was chewing on the end of his pen with a frown. “Just filling in the ‘weakness’ section of the journal. Bats, shovels, and leaf blowers worked surprisingly well against them. Do you think I should include goats?”

“Why not?”

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth!” Graunty Mabel called from downstairs. Both boys wrinkled their nose in distaste at each other. “And by don’t forget I mean do it right now. If you don’t, I’ll make you sing karaoke with me during a tour tomorrow!” 

Ford set the journal on the bed with his pen and headed down the stairs. Stan started to follow him before pausing. He hurried to Ford’s bed and flipped the journal open to see what his brother had written in it.

_ “This journal told me there was no one in Gravity Falls I could trust.... But when you battle 100 gnomes side by side with someone, you realize they probably always have you back. _

He shut the journal with a smile and ran down the steps to rejoin his twin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not every chapter will be as long as the first. Some might be longer, who knows?


	2. Gobblewonker: I Seen It! I Seen It!

_ Broken, Broken _ __   
_ She will never be the same _ __   
_ It's to think things over _ __   
_ to figure out what happened _ __   
_ But the answer's somehow lack _ __   
_ I can seem to tell her _ __   
_ That I'm scared of losing _ _   
_ __ When it's to late to turn back

_ -’Broken’ by Ramin Karimloo _

“A grappling hook?” Stan looked at the object in his brother’s hand and tried to smile. Just looking at the thing made his stomach tight. He  _ hated _ heights. They had ridden a Ferris wheel on the first day of middle school. It had been fun, for a few rotations, being so high and free. Then the stupid thing had broken. They’d been stuck at the very top for what felt like years. Every shake of the cart they were in had felt like a death sentence to Stan. Ford hadn’t noticed Stan’s mounting panic for a while either. He was too fascinated by the work the engineers were doing, the nerd. When he had noticed Stan’s terror it was too late to stop the panic attack. He had simply wrapped his brother in an embrace and held them till they were heading back down.

So, yeah, Stan would not be getting a grappling hook from this store. Pretty much anything else in the store would be preferable.

“Yep,” Ford replied with an eager grin, “I was going to get a notebook, but, you know, I have one.” He shared a secret smile with Stan who smiled sincerely in return. “What are you going to get?” Ford asked after a moment.

“I can’t decide!” He spun on his heel to look around the room. There seemed to be a thousand unique objects in the shop. Graunty Mabel had a few standard ‘souvenirs’ but she had filled most of the space with strange knick knacks. Some had practical uses, like the Grappling Hook, others looked like they were junk. It was all neat and left Stan feeling a bit panicked. What if he grabbed the wrong thing? What if he chose something and found a cooler thing?

“Graunty Mabel said there was no rush.” Ford shrugged as he spoke as though it wasn’t a hugely important decision.

“Breakfast!” Graunty Mabel poked her head through the “Employee’s Only” door. She had on her purple apron. It was covered in glitter and paint as well as flour. “We’re having French Toast today.”

They followed her into the dining room and sat at the table. She put a platter of French toast down in front of the twins and beamed. Stan inspected the food with a raised eyebrow. She’d put glitter in it. That wasn’t particularly surprising. In the nearly week they’d been living with her, Graunty Mabel had put sprinkles or glitter in pretty much everything they ate. Even mash potatoes.

Ford grabbed a few slices and put a modest amount of syrup on his plate. He then picked up this week’s copy of ‘Wacky News.’ Stan grabbed his own pile of French toast and put a ridiculous amount of syrup on it. Mabel gave him an approving nod. She put sprinkles on top of her own pile of French toast.

“Stan!” Ford dropped the magazine, hitting his French toast pile. He didn’t even notice and just pointed at something excitedly. “Look, look!” Stan leaned over to see what was so exciting. “They’re having a monster photo contest!” His brother was pointing at a photo of a cheesy looking monster. Stan didn’t care about that. He cared a lot about the bold text under it that said the top prize was $500.

“Too bad you didn’t get any pictures of the gnomes.” Mabel said around a mouth full of sparkly French toast.

“We have to find something!” Ford rushed. He reached into the backpack he had on the back of his chair, probably to grab the journal. He thought better of it and turned back to the now sticky magazine. “Just think of what we could do with $500!”

They could get the supplies to fix their boat. They could sail away and hunt for treasure.

“Wait a minute,” Mabel choked a little on the amount of food she was trying to talk through. She swallowed and pounded her chest a little. “I don’t want you looking for monsters!” She gasped the words around another cough. She took a shaky breath and shook her head when Stan pushed her glass of water towards her. “This town is crazy dangerous, remember? I don’t want you two getting hurt on my watch.” She glanced out the window with a scared frown. “You’re absolutely not allowed to do that.” She swallowed again and turned back to her partially eaten meal. “I uh,” she stood up, “I need to go restock some inventory.” She left the table quickly and Stan was pretty sure there were tears in her eyes.

“I don’t get it.” He sighed and slumped in his chair. “She saw us take out those gnomes. We can totally handle monster hunting.”

“Too bad Crampelter isn’t here. He’s ugly enough to qualify as a monster.” Ford shot him a mischievous grin that Stan instantly returned. “I think we’ll just have to be a little more… secretive… about our monster hunting. I’m sure the journal mentioned some things about monster heavy locations.”

Stan speared a large piece of toast on his fork. He pointed it at his brother. “Now you’re talking.”

* * *

Wendy was who knew were so Stan and Ford were stuck manning the front counter. Graunty Mabel also seemed to have suddenly developed a sixth sense for danger. Any time they were about to wander off to consult the journal, she’d pop up.

“This bites.” Stan declared after a few hours. There wasn’t anyone in the store but a kid. He was short, chubby, and hanging out in the back corner where the question mark shirts were.

“I haven’t found out anything. How are we supposed to monster hunt if we don’t know where the monsters are?” Ford’s tone could only be described as whiny.

“Monster hunt?” The boy, who really was on the complete opposite side of the store, asked. He came towards them with a smile. “Is that what you dogs were talking about?”

“What if we were?” Stan asked suspiciously. He’d seen the kid around a couple of times. He seemed to really like the Mystery Shack.

The kid didn’t seem to notice Stan’s suspicious tone. He just came up to the counter the twins were hanging at.

“Did you hear about the Gobblewonker?”

That was a made up word if Stan had ever heard one.

“The Gobblewonker?” Ford asked with perfect sincerity. Dork probably believed it was an actual thing. Then again, Stan had fought a thousand gnomes all stacked together yesterday. Perhaps he shouldn’t be skeptical.

“Yeah, dog! It’s a lake monster at Lake Gravity Falls. My abuelito was telling me about it this morning. Apparently, there’s been sightings of it. They had to cancel family fun day and everything!”

If the park had to cancel an actual event, then this whole thing might be legit. He leaned forward and pressed his palms against the counter so he could peer over the edge of it.

“What’s your name, kid?”

The boy smiled at them. “I’m Jesus, but you can call me Soos.”

“Soos, huh?” Stan replied. He stuck his hand out to the kid. “I’m Stan. This here,” he indicated Ford, “is my twin brother, Ford.”

“Your Stan and Ford? That’s awesome, dog.”

“Stanley and Stanford.”

“Even more awesome!” Soos let go of Stan’s hand and pointed towards the door. “I can show you the way to the lake.”

The twins immediately jumped off their stools and headed around the counter. Ford was the first to stop, unsurprisingly. 

“Wait,” he caught Stan’s arm with a frown, “we can’t leave the shop unsupervised. Someone could rob it. Or want to buy something.” 

“Well where’s Wendy?” Stan demanded. It wasn’t even there turn to watch the shop. She was being paid to do it. Technically Stan and Ford were earning a small amount of money as well but it was Wendy’s actual job. 

“I dunno. Where is Wendy ever at?” 

“Wendy?” Soos asked with a smile that showed a missing tooth, “She’s out front with her friends.” 

“Go get her!” Stan and Ford exclaimed together. Soos turned clumsily on his heel and jogged outside.

“It’s perfect!” Stan whispered to Ford. 

“We just have to keep quiet about it.” Ford replied. He picked his grappling hook off the counter and hooked it to his side. He tucked the journal into his jacket and straightened his glasses. Stan patted his back pocket where he had his brass knuckles and army knife. He could punch the monster if things got bad. “We’ll need to pick up some cameras before we head to the lake. There wouldn’t be much of a point to find the monster and not have a camera.”

“Doesn’t Graunty Mabel have a pile? She’s always scrap booking.” 

“Think she’d notice if we borrowed some?”

“Borrow what?” Mabel walked into the room with a pile of yarn which she shoved into a bucket marked ‘On Sale!’ She tussled their head and leaned against the counter. 

“Uh, cameras.” Ford blanched as the words left his mouth. He shared a panicked look with Stan who promptly stepped forward with an innocent smile.

“We just met a kid who said he’d take us fishing on the lake. We want to take some pictures of the boats there.” Ford emphatically nodded his head.

“Yeah,” he added, “We want to get some ideas for our own boat.” They’d told her about it on their first day. She’d been an enthusiastic listener and they rarely had that. 

“Well that sounds like a fun time.” She paused as the door opened and Soos came back inside with Wendy in tow.

“Hi Miss Pines.” Soos waved at their Graunty as he entered. He had a big grin on his face and went straight to her side. She opened her arms for a hug from him which he quickly, and cheerfully, gave. 

“Soos! How ya doing man?”

“Great Miss Pines! We’re going down to the lake! Do you want to come?”

Stan shook his head frantically but it didn’t matter. Soos wasn’t looking at him. The question had been asked and it was out there now. 

“That sounds like fun.” Mabel straightened up and put her hand on her hip. “Fidds could give the tours. He’s been wanting to practice for a while.” She shrugged and smiled. “Why not?” She turned towards the twins who quickly schooled their expressions from shock into something more plausibly excited. “You two get the cameras. I’ll get us something for lunch.” She hurried out of the room with her green squirt swishing against the floor. Stan instantly rounded on Soos and raised his hands in exasperation. 

“What’d ya go and do that for?” He demanded with a poke in Soos shoulder. “She doesn’t want us monster hunting! Now we’re going to have to figure out how to ditch her while we’re trapped on a boat.”

“Aw, sorry, dudes. I didn’t know. Miss Pines is cool though. Did you ask her about monster hunting?” 

“Yes and the answer was an emphatic no.” Ford answered with an unamused frown. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Did they say where the monster had been spotted?”

“Scuttlebutt island.” Soos answered dutifully. Stan laughed. Butt Island. 

“We could propose eating lunch on the island. It shouldn’t be impossible to look around while Graunty Mabel sets a picnic up.” He shrugged at Stan. “As long as she doesn’t know we’re monster hunting, I see no reason we can’t look for a monster.”

“And if we find it?” Stan asked. It was a pretty good plan. Sixer normally didn’t come up with such conniving ideas. It made Stan proud. 

“Then Graunty Mabel will probably be too scared to care if we get a photo. And she can hardly blame us if we take advantage of the opportunity.” 

He wasn’t crazy about the idea of scaring Graunty Mabel but $500 was a lot of money. They could fix their boat for that kind of money. Sailing off into the sunset with Ford by his side was his biggest dream. It kept him going on a lot of not great days. Whenever dad came home drunk or he got really pissed at Stanley… Stanley would think of that boat and their future as treasure hunters and it wouldn’t seem as terrible. They’d be able to escape the bullies, the labels people always tried to stick on them, and the dead end town they were stuck in.

He’d do just about anything for that dream. Graunty Mabel would forgive them. he was certain of it.

* * *

He hadn't thought about the fact that the lake house would be closed. Thankfully, Soos had a great alternative. Soos’ abuelito owned a boat and Soos knew where the keys were kept on the boat. Mabel made them all wear life vest. Stan volunteered to get them and had no problem breaking into the lake house. He ‘rented’ the three extra life vest they needed as well as a floating key chain that looked cool.

Graunty’s was a bright pink life vest that she instantly slapped a few sparkly stickers on. He got Ford and him orange ones. He handed Ford a pair of goggles as well. He knew it drove him crazy to have to dry his glasses every few seconds. Stan didn’t wear glasses anymore but he remembered how annoying they had been to have to clean. He’d broken a few too many pairs in his younger days and his parents had stopped buying them for him. He could see well enough so he didn’t mind. Things just got blurry if he was really close to them. His brother gave him a bashful and grateful smile when he handed him the goggles. 

“Where are we going?” Mabel asked as they all climbed on board. “And who is the captain?”

“Me!” Ford beat him by half a second which made Stan put his hands on his hips indignantly. 

“No fair! Why do you get to be captain?”

“Isn’t it Soos’ boat? Maybe he should be captain.” 

Soos, who was at the controls, shook his head. “Nah, they can be captain. Captains. Co captains?”

“Yeah!” Stan said before Ford could. He knew that was the best he was going to get. He’d take co captain or first mate. 

“Okay,” Mabel said cheerfully. She peered up at them on the deck and shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. “Permission to come aboard, co captains?”

“Permission granted!” They both declared loudly. She came up with a laugh and a ‘boop!’ She looked around as Stan unhitched them from the dock. Soo’s started the engine and a moment later they were rushing through the water. 

“Now which side is which? I know one is port and one is starboard but I’m not sure which is which.” Stan happily gave his Graunty Mabel a run down on boat lingo. He took her to the back of the boat (“The stern, Graunty Mabel.”) and showed her how to tie a few basic knots as well. She was really good at tying knots. They made up a few of their own knots and challenged each other to untie them. Mabel laughed at Stanley’s knot and told him to remind her to hide her yarn stash. They rode around for at least an hour before Soos started to head towards the island. They’d all agreed they’d need to be out and about for a while before they sprang the island on her. they had to look like they’d wanted to go boating. 

Soos declared himself famished, which Ford and Stan quickly agreed with. Mabel bought their act and suggested that they head to the island for lunch.

It was at that point that Stan noticed the island was the only part of the entire lake that was covered in fog. Cool.

* * *

Ford had never been more excited for something in his life. He had spent a few hours the previous night reading through the journal and he had noticed that several entries had to do with the strange aquatic life in Gravity Falls. Boating would be fun in and of itself. Boating in search of a sea monster was something out of a dream. His brother dreamed of treasure hunting. Ford dreamed of discovering magical islands and fantastical creatures. 

Stan immediately took up the task of distracting Graunty Mabel from the true purpose of their trip. He’d hit it off with their eccentric great aunt from the moment they got off the bus. Ford liked her, it was nearly impossible not to, but he wished he had someone who enjoyed some of the same things he did. Stan would go on monster hunts and listen to him talk about science, of course, but it wasn’t the same. They didn’t enjoy those things for the same reason. Ford loved the discovery and the fantasticalness. Stan loved the adventure and adrenaline.

Ford leaned against the bow (front) of the ship and rubbed some water from his goggles. He hadn’t seen any hints of monsters so far. They’d sailed around most of the lake at this point. It wasn’t a huge lake by any means but there was ‘Scuttlebutt Island’ at the center. It was where the monster had been spotted and it was where Ford wanted to go. The island was surrounded by a fog that made it the perfect spot for a monster. Soos was leading them towards it now and they were near enough that Ford was able to make out some of what was in the island. It had the same pine trees that grew everywhere in Gravity Falls. There were a few rock outcroppings that blocked his view of the rest of the island. He leaned closer to get a better view and nearly fell over when he heard a squeal from Mabel.

He turned to see what was going on and saw Stan bent over the boat rail coughing something up and into the lake.

“What happened, dudes?” Soos asked. Stan held up a finger to indicate he needed a minute. Graunty Mabel was laughing loudly and had slumped against the edge of the boat. There were tears in her eyes. Stan slowly straightened with a scowl. He held his hand out to Mabel who dropped a dollar into it.

“I don’t know what I was expecting.” Stan finally said. He pocketed the dollar and looked at Ford. “Don’t try the fish bait.”

“You ate it?” He couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice. Stan smiled proudly.

“And I earned money.” He shrugged and laughed at a snort Mabel made. “Aren’t you supposed to be-“

The boat jerked hard enough to knock Ford and Stan over. Mabel caught the guard rail before she could fall. Soos yelped in shock.

“Uh, land ho?” Soos said after a long beat. Stan was the first on his feet and helped Ford up. Mabel divvied out the picnic supplies and Ford led the way off the boat.

“Isn’t this… pleasant.” Mabel said with a frown as she looked around. Ford hardly noticed. There were a lot of knocked over trees in this part of the island. If a large monster had come through, it stood to reason they would knock some of the trees down. It was hard to tell if there were any tracks on the ground though.

“Where do you want the blanket?” Stan asked cheerfully. Mabel directed her attention to picking out a picnic spot which let Ford do a bit more investigation. He dropped his basket off with his Graunty and went a few yards further into the forest. He kept his eyes on the ground and studied the way the foliage was growing. There were a few spot that looked flatter as though something might have been dragged on it. The voices of his family and Soos grew fainter as he wandered further in. He pulled one of the cameras Stan had acquired from the Mystery shack out and readied it to take a photo.

It was a small island. He made it across the entire length of it after ten or so minutes. He reached the water’s edge and looked around with a frown. It seemed even foggier on this end. There was some sort of strange shape in the distanc-

“STANFORD!” The shout was from his Graunty Mabel and was surprisingly loud for her being nowhere near where he was standing. He realized with a jolt of surprise that he had just wandered away from the others without alerting them to his plans. That was an obvious mistake. If there was a monster here, or anything dangerous, he could have been injured without them even knowing he had left. That was the way people died in horror movies. Even Stanley wouldn’t make a mistake like that.

He glanced around the area he was standing in and saw what looked like a shell. He grabbed it up and formulated an excuse for his absence in his mind.

“Coming Graunty!” He called out and jogged back to the group. They’d set up the picnic in his absence and he was pleased to see they were have peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches. She’d packed a few carrots and cookies as well. They’d also gotten Pitt soda which seemed to be the only thing anyone in this town drank besides coffee.

“Sorry, I got distracted. I found this.” He held out what he thought was a seashell but was in fact, not a sea shell. It was some kind of tooth. He promptly closed his fingers back over the object and looked to see if anyone had noticed. Stan was giving him a weird look. He couldn’t figure out what it was for and that was more unnerving than holding a possible monster tooth. Graunty Mabel was sitting in a beach chair and was pale. Her normally cheery smile had dropped into an anxious frown. Soos was chewing on a sandwich.

“D-Don’t wander off. Not alone.” Mabel hugged herself for a moment while the twins watched her in alarm. “Sorry,” she swallowed and tried to paste on a sunny smile. It didn’t reach her eyes. She reached into the basket by her feet and pulled out a few more sandwiches. “Here, go ahead and eat. I cut the crust off yours, Ford, and I put sprinkles in yours, Stan.” Ford took the sandwich with a hesitant smile. He sat next to Soos and noticed that Stan was frowning at him in an accusing way.

“Cool, popcorn balls!” Soos grabbed one out of the basket and promptly bit into it. The popcorn ball fell apart in his hand and he laughed happily. Mabel relaxed at the sound and bit into her own sandwich.

They sat like that for five or so minutes. Stan was chewing his sandwich aggressively, Soos was telling jokes that had Mabel snorting her drink from her nose, and Ford was chewing his cookies thoughtfully. They’d set the picnic up in the middle of the flattened area. The more he looked at it the more it looked like something large had passed through here.

He was just reaching for his second sandwich when he heard a faint growling, grinding sound. His head instantly shot to the right to see if there was anything there but the mist was too thick. He discreetly looked at his family and found that they were all distracted. He needed to get his camera ready. He couldn’t miss the opportunity to document a new monster. To be the first person to get proof of some unknown creature would be a dream come true. They’d already found out gnomes were real. Who knew what else was lurking in this town? What could he add to the journal? If he worked hard enough and gathered enough evidence he could publish the findings. He’d be a somebody. Not just a freak with six fingers. Not just the twin of a ‘troublemaker.’ Not just the son of a fake psychic.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the growling noise getting louder. He didn’t notice it until Stanley was standing up. He had his brass knuckles on his left hand and his pocket knife in his right hand. Soos was gaping at the forest with a horrified look.

Ford turned to see what was going on saw something big moving through the trees towards them. He shot to his feet and pulled out the camera he’d stuffed in his jacket. He raised it to his eyes and tried to find where the monster was. He just needed a clear shot. Just one picture…

Graunty Mabel grabbed him by the back of his jacket and jerked him backwards right as a loud and terrible crash echoed through the forest. The ground shook under his feet and he fell back into his Graunty’s side.

“RUN!” She screeched at the top of her lungs. She turned on her heel and dragged him with her. Soos was already booking it back to the boat. Stan waited a beat longer before following them. He kept his blade out and his hand clenched in a fist. He was ready to attack and was taking the rear to try and keep them safe. The idiot. If the monster could knock down a tree it wasn’t going to be taken down by Stan.

He twisted himself around in his Graunty’s hold and tried to get his feet back under himself. He stumbled as he did so and both Stan and Mabel stopped to help him up. He grabbed his brother’s hand and looked up. For the first time, he saw the monster. He saw the Gobblewonker. It was taller than the Mystery Shack and at least as large as their boat. It had a wide body with flipper things it was using to move along the ground with. It had a long, thin neck like a giraffe and a long, flat face. Its eyes were glowing and it had sharp, long teeth. One of which was missing. Its scales was a grayish blue and it looked  _ angry. _

“Sixer!” Stan snapped. His hand closed around Ford’s arm and jerked him up. “Run, damn it!”

“Language!” Mabel snapped. She grabbed both their arms and pulled.

“Is that really important right now?” Stan demanded with a pant. They chased after Soos who had made it to the boat. He was working on dragging the anchor up now.

“Don’t try me!” Mabel returned. She shoved them ahead of her as they reached the boat. The monster was closing in fast on them. Stan, not showing his dislike of climbing, threw himself up the side of the boat. Ford followed him. They both then leaned over the boat and helped tug their Great Aunt up.

“Hold on dudes!” Soos shouted from the bow. He had gotten the boat going and hit the throttle. They jerked away from the island and shot into the lake as the monster reached the shore. It instantly dove after them and missed. A huge wave shot over the entire boat, soaking everyone.

“Tighten your life jackets!” Mabel demanded. She grabbed Stanley’s and made sure it was secure. Ford checked his own and noticed the camera in his hand.

He pulled it out. He’d taken two pictures. He couldn’t know how they turned out. The monster was swimming after them with its head above the surface. It was the perfect moment. He just needed to take the picture.

He brought the camera up and clicked the button. He wound to the next number and took another picture. He managed to get three pictures before the monster was diving at the boat. Mabel screamed as it latched its massive mouth on the starboard side. There was a sickening crunching noise as the monster began to chew on their boat.

Stan, with a shout of anger, dove at the monster. His bronze knuckles flashed in the sunlight and then they connected with the Gobblewonkers snout. The monster reared back with a snarling noise. It dropped the mouthful of their boat it had chewed off. It opened its mouth and roared, sending spittle and splinters of wood all over the deck. Ford couldn’t breathe as the Gobblewonker’s mouth hovered over Stanley. His brother had his knife up in the air and was shouting threats at the massive monster.

He stood straight and tall with complete disregard for the monster snarling above him. The monster reared back again and an intense and terrible understanding flooded Ford. The monster shot its head down, knocking Stan to the ground. His brother was going to die in front of him. He was going to be eaten alive because of Ford’s longing to go on a monster hunt. He bellowed his horror and tried to run forward but he couldn’t get any kind of grip on the ground. He fell with a slam and stars exploded in his vision. His brother was slashing at the head but wasn’t making any kind of contact.

A blur shot by Ford’s left side and then Graunty Mabel was hurling an object at the monster. It caught the sunlight and glinted in the sun before lodging itself in the eye of the monster. A knitting needle? Was that what it was? Graunty Mabel grabbed the edge of the boat as the monster dove back into the water. Another huge wave of water rolled onto the boat and soaked Ford. The monster hit their boat and he found himself falling back down.

Soos, screaming at the top of his lung, kept the boat going straight and as fast as it could. They were quickly approaching the shore.

He slipped and slid towards his brother who was trying to haul himself back upright. There was blood on his arm but he didn’t even seem to notice. Graunty Mabel was shouting something Ford couldn’t understand. The world seemed to stand still for a moment as Stan’s head turned towards him. He was beaming. He had blood on his face and a rip in his shirt but he clearly didn’t care. Mabel was wielding her second knitting needle in a threatening manner and still shouting at the water.

“Hold on, dude-“ Soos was cut off as they slammed into the bumpers at the dock. Ford unfroze and grabbed the rope on the port side. He flung it at the dock and jumped off the ship. Stan joined him a second later and together they secured the boat. Soos and Graunty Mabel followed them off the boat and they all ran towards the lot the car was parked in. They scrambled inside the car and slammed the doors shut. No one had time to buckle up before Graunty Mabel was peeling out towards the road.

Ford fumbled with his seatbelt and couldn’t get it in the slot. His hand was shaking too badly. His brother caught the shaking digits in his own and guided the buckle into place. Ford glanced up to find Stan giving him a worried look.

“You okay?” He mouthed. Ford couldn’t reply. His brother was bleeding and had bruises already forming on his face and Stan asked Ford if he was okay.

“I almost got us killed.” He blurted out. Soos was saying something to Mabel that made her laugh so she wouldn’t hear them. Not that Ford would have cared.

“Uh, the monster was the one that almost killed us. Not you. Though that was pretty stupid of you to walk off like that. And to try and take pictures of it while it was trying to eat us.” He shrugged. “It was exciting though. Look!” He pulled a broken tooth out of his shirt. “Dumb thing missed me and got caught on my life jacket. I got a tooth!” 

“I don’t know about all of you, but I need a breather after that.” Mabel called from the front. They turned their attention to her. “How about when we get home you two go grocery shopping? You can pick up some pizza and ice cream toppings. We’ll pig out tonight. and watch tv. I’ll rent Treasure Planet and you can show it to me while we feast. We can make super deluxe sundays for dessert.”

Ford swallowed his guilt and nodded his head. They were all fine. Stan was fine. He’d lost the camera in the confusion of the last few minutes, and that was fine as well. Everything was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 and my first attempt at writing Ford's thoughts. I don't know why I find him difficult.
> 
> Anyway, I know that relativity falls typically switches Soos to a girl who is Soos cannon age. I just like the idea of kid Soos hanging with the original Mystery Twins. I'm really excited about the next few chapters because we'll start to get into the actual lore of my new version of the show :D We'll also start deviating some from the time line. ;)


	3. The Hand That Rocks The Mabel: Getting all Curiousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was well over 10,000 words so I split in half. This is the first episode where I fiddle with the timeline. Don't fret, fans, there will very likely be wax figures in a future chapter.

_They can't tell me who to be_  
_ Cause I'm not what they see_  
_ Yeah, the world is still sleeping_  
_ While I keep on dreaming for me_  
_ And their words are just whispers and lies_  
_ That I'll never believe_

_ -Jim's Theme Treasure Planet _

“That one?” Stan asked with an attempt at a self-conscious grin. He had three different tourist watching him sloppily shuffle cards. It had taken him about five minutes to lure them in. He was even using a Mystery Shack deck of cards. They had the All Seeing Eye from the dollar bill on them. That symbol was all over the Mystery Shack. It was basically their mascot.

He had been ‘playing’ a matching game in front of the customers with Soos. Soos didn’t realize he was part of the con setup which made it far more believable. He’d managed to draw the other customers in when they realized that Soos was missing the obvious. They were playing for quarters and Stan had gained a dollar worth. An adult came over and offered to play a game with him for a dollar. Stan agreed and purposefully let the man win. He then asked for a retry and won the round. The man laughed good naturedly and bet five dollars he’d win the next round.

He lost twice and Stan made twelve dollars. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt with no watch so there wasn’t any place for him to hide the cards. They genuinely thought he couldn’t be cheating.

Another two tourist stepped up to try and play. They both lost as well.

He was pretty confident he could get another ten dollars out of them. He probably would have too if Graunty Mabel hadn’t walked in the room. She saw him playing a card game on the floor with tourist and frowned in confusion. A beat passed and then the frown switched into a straight line and her eyes narrowed. Stan didn’t need to know his Graunty well to know that he was about to get a lecture.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to take my great nephew aside for a few minutes. Ford?” She called to his brother who was manning the cash register. He was mindlessly playing with the marble display. He’d somehow managed to stack them.

“Yes, Graunty Mabel?” He straightened up and tried to look like he’d been paying attention.

“Watch the store for me.” He nodded his head but she didn’t wait for that response. She was already leaving and motioning for Stan to come with him. He stood up and pocketed the money.

“Sorry, gents, my Graunty calls.”

She was waiting outside the Employee Only door. Her back was to him and she had her arms crossed. Okay. It was going to be one of those talks. That was pretty much the only type of talk he got.

“Stan, please tell me you weren’t playing three card monty in my Gift Shop.”

“I wasn’t.” He’d been playing with four cards. He’d also left the card on the table. He was just gifted with sleight of hand.

“You were conning those men, Stan!” She rounded on him as she hissed the words accusingly and said ‘conning’ like it was dirty. She looked angry and hurt. Like he had betrayed her somehow.

“No I wasn’t. They chose to play. They were the ones that assumed a kid wouldn’t be any good. What’s the harm?”

“The harm? It’s a form of gambling which is illegal for starts. What would happen if one of them complained? We could get in legal trouble, Stan.” She shook her head. “You know it was a trick. You were playing them. You probably even let them win a few rounds, didn’t you?”

Stan didn’t reply right away. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared defiantly. Finally, he couldn’t take the silence.

“They thought I was just a dumb kid. ‘S not my fault they were wrong. They had a chance to win. They were just bad.”

“It’s a con, Stan. You’re better than that.” Graunty Mabel shook her head in disappointment and walked back into the shop. Stan stood there with his cards and his money and felt like a failure. He’d thought she’d be proud he’d earned money. He should have known better. He could hear his pa in his head.

_You’re a screw up, boy. You’re lucky you’re strong because you’ll never make money with that brain._

Whatever. He was used to disappointing people. Graunty Mabel shouldn’t be any different. So what if they had a lot of fun together? So what if she’d expected better of him? She had to learn that he was a failure at some point. At least this way she hadn’t had time to really be sure of his goodness.

He shoved the twenty two dollars in his pocket and wandered outside. It was a bright and warm day. He found a stump out front and sat on it. He was annoyingly close to the parking lot but whatever.

“He’s the greatest thing we’ve ever seen.” He could hear a woman talking from his perch and saw it was some couple getting in their car. It was a mustang convertible. A nice one. “This place isn’t bad, but Lil Bud is _magical._” The woman spoke with utter conviction.

“He’s certainly convincing.” The man agreed. He pulled the door open for the girl and closed it once she was inside. They had the top down so he kept talking. “I’m not sure I believe in psychics but he puts on a fantastic show.”

“Can we go back tonight? The Tent of Telepathy is open every night, right?”

“As far as I’m aware.” They drove off leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. Stan got up coughing and went to the back of the Shack. He used the back door to go in and snuck up the stairs. Ford was sitting on his bed with the journal and a notepad. Wendy must have come in and relieved him at the cash register.

“Hey, Stan.” He greeted with an excited smile. “I think I figured out one of these codes.” Stan went to the bed where his brother was sitting. He had three code breaking books open on the floor. He’d already been to the local library three times. Stan was fairly certain this journal was going to be Ford’s summer obsession. That was just the way Ford operated. He was always obsessed with something. Usually it was something Stan could get interested in too. There were a few times when Stan couldn’t even fake an interest. Thankfully, this wasn’t one of those times.

“Really?” He leaned over to look at what his brother had written. Ford was a person who had annoyingly neat handwriting. Stanley wrote sloppily and fast. He wanted to get words down before they left his brain. His brother always wrote in tiny cursive and always wrote extremely quickly. He just managed to make it look neat and fancy.

He’d made two columns on one sheet of paper. Column one had a –z with each letter on a different line. Column two had the alphabet as well, but he’d started on letter p. Which seemed like a really random letter to Stan. It looked like:

A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z  
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---  
P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O  
  
“How does that work then?” Ford beamed at the question which Stan had anticipated. His brother loved talking about his nerdy pursuits.

“Let’s say I want to write a secret note to you. Something simple.”

“High six.” Stan suggested. Ford nodded his head in approval.

“Sure. High Six. You find the first letter over here, H, and see what’s its secret letter is. W. You do that for each letter.” Ford figured it out quickly and wrote ‘Wxvw Hxm.’ “I’d send you this and you’d use your key,” he tapped the notebook excitedly, “to figure out what it says. All you need to know is how many letters I shifted the key alphabet by. This one is fifteen. There are at least three different kind of ciphers in this journal though. This one,” he indicated the cipher they’d just worked on, “is a Caesar cipher.”

“That’s pretty cool.” Ford nodded his head and then paused. He tilted his head and studied Stan. Stan put on his best smile knowing it wouldn’t matter. That was the problem with being a twin. They could read each other really well. He hadn’t been paying attention to his tone and something must have leaked through it.

“What’s wrong, Stan?”

“It’s nothing… Do you, uh, have any plans tonight?” Ford shook his head and narrowed his eyes. Stan felt like he was some kind of cipher his brother was trying to find the key to. He wasn’t sure he wanted him to. He wasn’t sure how Ford hadn’t figured out he was just a screw up.

Thinking things like that were really uncomfortable so he focused his attention on the conversation.

“Okay, wanna try out the ‘Tent of Telepathy.’” He wiggled his fingers and made his voice all spooky to try and lighten the mood.

“The what?”

“The Tent of Telepathy. I heard some tourists talking about it outside. Apparently it’s a psychic show. Figured we could check it out. Who knows, we might be able to give ma some ideas.”

Ford shrugged. “Sounds fun. We can be spies.” He fiddled with the notebook.

“So what’s the author writing in code about?”

“Technical things that don’t make a lot of sense yet. I’ve only translated a few words.” He shrugged. “I think he was building something. I think it has to do with this.” He flipped towards the middle of the journal where this weird, geometrical image was. “He wrote about building something in one entry. Right next to the blacked out page with a little red writing on it. I’m not sure what ‘he’ is but he freaked the author out.” The ‘Trust No One’ page was right after it. Stan felt a little sorry for the guy. It must have been bad, whatever it was.

He watched Ford as he explained about the invention and his theories. His brother was flushed with excitement and was flipping through the three different books to show Stan different code breaking techniques.

Yeah… He couldn’t imagine not having someone he could trust and depend on.

* * *

The tent was an actual tent. A really big one, but a tent nonetheless. They rode their bikes to the show instead of asking Graunty Mabel for a ride. Ford thought it would be smart to admit they were visiting the competition. Which Stan was fine with because he hadn’t talked to her since she’d caught his con.

There was a tall, older man in a baby blue suit taking up the money outside. Stan used the con money to pay for their access and felt a little vindicated. Inside the tent was air conditioned, thankfully, and they’d set up wooden benches for sitting on. Ford and Stan made their way to the front. They weren’t that tall yet and didn’t want to try and see over someone. There was a wooden stage set up at the front with curtains. They took their seat and looked around skeptically.

“This is already nicer than ma could afford.” Ford whispered. Stan opened his mouth to reply when the overhead lights dimmed. A dramatic thrum of music played, a spotlight turned onto the center of the stage, and the curtains drew back. In the center of the stage was a short, chubby boy who looked younger than them. He was wearing a baby blue suit like the man out front and had white hair. He’d styled it back with gel and looked to be wearing makeup. He had on cowboy boots and a bolo tie with a green gem.

“Hello Gravity Falls!” the kid had a thick southern drawl and a large, disarming smile. He threw his hands wide open as he spoke as though he wanted to give the audience a hug. “My name is Lil Bud.” He clapped his hands and birds flew out from under the rhinestone cape he was wearing. Stan made a note of that. It was sparkly and bright. It would draw your attention whenever he moved. That was a good idea. You always wanted to distract someone from what your hands were doing. It was the first step to all cons.

He waved towards the side stage where a piano was. The man who had been taking money at the front had moved over there when Stan wasn’t looking.

“Hit it, Grandpa!” Bud called out. A beat obviously made for hand clapping started and the audience started to clap to the beat.

“Oh, I can see what others can’t see. It ain’t some sideshow trick it’s an innate ability.”

Yeah right. Also, was that a dig at the Mystery Shack?

“Where others are blind I am futurely inclined. And you too could see, if you were widdle ol me.” He did a little jig while he danced which was obviously meant to be cutesy. The audience was eating it up. Bud giggled and threw his hands out again. “Come on everybody, rise up-“ and that was when the first weird thing happened. Ford and Stan were suddenly standing along with everyone else. Both twins shared a confused look. No one else seemed to notice it though.

Stan didn’t intend on standing. He didn’t remember telling his body to stand. He was just suddenly standing.

He focused back on the stage to see Bud was pointing at an old lady in the crowd who had somehow brought a cat in. “You wish your son would call you more.” He pointed to the sheriff. “I sense that you’ve been here before.” He was walking off the stage into the audience as he sang. He was also pretty good at singing. Country wasn’t Stan’s style but the kid had talent.

These weren’t particularly good predictions. What old lady didn’t want her kid to call her more? And the sheriff had at least three dolls in his lap, and he was wearing a Tent of Telepathy shirt.

The kid walked up to Stan and smiled a large, toothy grin. He pointed at Stan.

“I’ll read your mind if I can… Something tells me your name’s Stan.” He winked and danced back to the stage.

Ford looked as confused as Stanley felt. The other predictions had been easy guesses. Stan’s name had not been an easy guess. He wasn’t wearing a name tag or anything either. Maybe he had heard Ford call him Stan when they were coming in. That had to be it. Maybe he had spies in the crowd as well. Whenever their ma did her fortune teller routine at a fair she’d send Stan and Ford into the crowd to learn details about the customers. It was an old psychic trick.

“So welcome all ye! To the Tent of Telepathy. And thanks for visiting,” he sucked in a deep breath, “Widdle ol’ Me!” He danced in a circle as he belted the last note. He bowed in his big finish and panted a little while he pulled a water bottle out of his jacket.

“Thank you, thank you!” He called out between swallows of water. Stan settled back in his seat and narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t sure about the standing trick, but the rest was easy to pick apart. The kid showed natural talent for the conman life. Despite the obviousness of the scam, Stan was impressed.

The rest of the show was pretty much more of that. Bud sang a few more songs and made a few more predictions. Nothing much about the future but a lot about who people were and their past. None of his predication’s surprised Stan. He didn’t pick up any new ideas for their ma. The cape might be useful in the fairs, but their ma wore lots of sparkly jewelry to do the same thing.

They left the show laughing and discussing a few of the subtler tricks. They got on their bikes and didn’t notice that they were being watched.

* * *

Graunty Mabel had not been particularly happy to find out they’d been at the tent of telepathy. They hadn’t actually told her but some person named Candy had seen them there and sold them out to their Graunty. She’d promptly forbidden them to have anything else to do with the tent of telepathy. She proclaimed it a fraud and the Gleefuls as ‘dangerous.’

Now they were hanging out in the living room. Stan was playing the ancient video game system his Graunty had while Ford was decoding. It was nearly lunchtime and Stan was about to go hunt down some grub. He paused the game to do just that when the doorbell rang. Ford didn’t notice so Stan popped up.

“I’ll get it!” He yelled down the hallway so Graunty Mabel wouldn’t come down. He opened the front door to the house portion of the Mystery Shack and saw Bud Gleeful standing there with a shy smile. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and shorts along with a sun hat. He was far less cutesy now.

“Hi?” Stan asked after an uncomfortably long time. He blinked a few times but Bud Gleeful was still standing there.

“Howdy! I know we haven’t formally met, but I wanted to introduce myself properly. I’m Bud Gleeful.”

“I’m Stan Pines.” He stuck his hand out to shake Bud’s. His hand was a little sweaty, and very calloused.

“I was so happy to see you two at the Tent yesterday. I’ve met very few of the locals while I’ve been here. My show keeps me busy so I don’t have many friends. We’ve only been here a week or two.”

“Same here. We came to hang with our Great Aunt over summer break.” Graunty Mabel had offered to pay their tickets to get here and their pa had said yes. Ma hadn’t been thrilled about it and Stan didn’t particularly blame her. He wouldn’t want to be alone with pa all summer.

“Who’s at the door?” Graunty Mabel’s call came from inside the house. Stan started to reply with ‘Bud’ but thought better of it.

“No one, Graunty!” He turned back to little Bud to find the boy beaming at him.

“Thank you so much for that! Miss Pines is no fan of mine. She doesn’t seem to like ‘lies’ even though her shop is full of them.” He shook his head sadly. “What do you say we step away from here and chat some more? Maybe my dressing room? I can show you my car collection! No one else I’ve met appreciates them.”

Well that beat Stan’s plan for the day. Plus he didn’t have to see his Graunty that way. He could avoid her for most of the day. He didn’t particularly want to talk with her and be called a disappointment again.

“Sure. Just let me tell my bro where I’m going.” He left the door open and went to the living room. Ford hadn’t moved an inch.

“Hey, Ford?” His brother didn’t even look up. He was in another world currently and it would probably take actually shaking him to pull him out. Ford would probably be working on that all afternoon. Stan had nothing else to do and couldn’t bring himself to work in the shop. He didn’t particularly want to hang with his Graunty right now. 

“I’m going to go hang with Bud for a while. I’ll be back before dark.” He waited a beat and then left the living room. Ford probably wouldn’t notice his absence but if he did Stan could say he told him about it. He grabbed his wallet and house key and stuffed them in his pocket with his knife and knuckles. He joined Bud out on the front porch and shut the door.

“Can we get some lunch too? I’m starving.”

“Certainly!” Bud led him to where he had stashed his bike. It was a brand new bike, 10 speed with every gadget you get. It was a vibrant red with flames painted on. Stan’s bike was old. He’d taken good care of it, but it was not a looker. It had rust spots and you could hardly tell it had once been blue. He felt himself blush and pushed the embarrassment down. He’d paid for this bike himself. It was something he should be proud of.

“Have you been to Greasy’s Diner yet?” Stan shook his head in answer to the question. Bud buckled a helmet on and Stan had to push another wave of embarrassment down. He didn’t have a helmet.

_Real men don’t need helmets. Real men don’t fall._

His father’s words echoed in his head and made him shudder.

“Follow me!” Bud pushed off and pedaled clumsily towards the main road. Stan climbed up on his own bike and smoothly followed the new boy. They went down Gopher road and on to main street. It was about a fifteen minute bike ride to get to the town. He’d seen the diner on a few occasions when they’d driven into town. They went into it together, laughing at a joke Bud told. They got a table in the back and both ordered a burger when the waitress came. She was about Stan’s age with brown hair and a cute smile. He found out her name was Susan and her dad owned the joint. She laughed at his joke which made him feel about ten feet tall.

Bud didn’t say anything after he asked for a burger which seemed a little strange. Bud was really outgoing. Or at least he had been in the time Stan had known him.

Susan left to fill their order and Bud got chatty again. He talked about the places he had been in the town and Stan asked him when he had started the psychic jig. He talked about how his ma was a telephone psychic.

The burger was great but Stan was still hungry. He was always hungry now. Unfortunately, that was all Stan had money for. He’d already given Ford his extra money. He had a hard time not spending money and he really wanted to make sure they had some for their boat when they got back.

As they were leaving Bud ordered two strawberry milkshakes to go. Stan would have normally refused because he wasn’t supposed to take charity. That was really important to his pa. But the shake had already been ordered and Bud was really excited to show him his cards. Stan didn’t feel like making a fuss. So he took the shake, gave Susan a wink, and followed Bud out. They biked back to where the tent was and Stan noticed there was a house behind it for the first time.

Bud had the most impressive car collection Stan had ever seen. Thousands of minis in different brands and styles. He had tracks and paints any accessory Stan could have imagined. It was fantastic.

He lost all track of time while they played. Bud’s Granddad also had a real car that he was fixing. A 1971 Pontiac GTO. It was beautiful even in pieces. They were free to tinker with it whenever they wanted. Bud told him that when it was finished they could both drive it.

It was dark by the time was biking home. Bud had invited him to dinner where he had finally met Mr. Gideon Gleeful. He was… weird. He was every bit the conman Bud was, and he was fake charming. He laughed a lot and smiled toothily any time he talked. He also struck Stan as strict. Anytime Bud was loud or wasn’t quick to offer Stan more, he’d give him a look and tap his watch. Bud would instantly behave. It took Stan a couple of instances to even notice it. Then he was uncomfortably aware of it each time it happened. His pa’s signal was to adjust his glasses. If he adjusted his glasses Stan was probably going to get it later.

He reached the Mystery Shack and it was properly dark outside. He had to walk his bike the last hundred yards because he couldn’t really see. He parked his bike and tiptoed towards the house. He stuck his key in the lock and carefully turned it.

“Oh God,” Mabel caught him as soon as he got the door open. He’d been really quiet as he snuck in but she was sitting on the stairs to the top floor. She jumped up and wrapped him up in her sweater clad arms. “Where did you go? I thought you were hurt- Ford!” She shouted up the stairs for his brother. She refocused on him and Stan could hear footsteps moving upstairs.

“Its fine, Graunty Mabel. I was just exploring the town and hanging out with some kids.” He shrugged and tried to appear innocent. It never worked. Pa always caught on. He’d catch on and then Stan would get punished. He doubted Graunty Mabel would be any different.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” She demanded. Ford was at the top of the stairs now and coming down. His brother looked relieved which made Stan feel bad.

“I, uh,” technically had told Ford. And he had told him for this exact moment. Graunty Mabel looked freaked out though and his protective instincts for his brother kicked in. He would not get Ford in trouble. He didn’t know how Graunty Mabel punished. “I didn’t think about it.” Mabel released her hold on his shoulders and Stan flinched. Mabel didn’t notice and just crushed him in a tight hug. He hadn’t expected that.

“New rule then. If you are leaving this house without me, you let me know.” She released him after she spoke and seemed to realize how distraught she appeared. She swallowed thickly and smoothed her sweater down. There was a lama on it today. “Did you eat?” Stan nodded his head. “Okay,” she seemed uncertain about something. Stan tried to smile at her and that seemed to do the trick. She relaxed and gave him a once over. “I’m not sure where you’ve been, but you need a bath. Go upstairs and take one before bed.” She booped him on the nose.

Stan groaned and Mabel laughed. She shoved him towards the stairs and he went with a little complaint. Ford joined him walking up. His brother hadn’t said anything yet.

“Everything okay, Sixer?” He asked once they were in the attic. Ford sat down heavily on the bed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” His voice had a careful quality to it that Stan hated. It meant he was choosing his words purposefully which meant he was worried about something.

“Actually,” Stan smiled and tried to act like everything was great, “I did tell you.”

“You did?” Ford’s voice was small and Stan did not like that. He turned towards his brother to see he was fiddling with his glasses.

“Yeah, but I didn’t play fair. You were in your book. I knew you wouldn’t hear. I didn’t think I’d be gone for more than an hour or two. I honestly just wanted the ability to say I’d told you.”

“So why didn’t you tell me? And where did you go?”

“Oh,” yeah. Ford didn’t know about any of it. Wow. That was weird. He couldn’t remember when Ford hadn’t known something about him. “I was hanging with that kid Bud.”

“Gleeful? The fake psychic?”

“Yep! He came over and asked to hang out. He’s new in town too and doesn’t know any one yet. He’s got an awesome car collection. He’s rebuilding a 1971 Pontiac and let me help him.” He pointed to his stained shirt. “That’s what’s going on with this. He’s a lot less ‘cutesy’ in real life.” He smiled goofily. Ford wrinkled his nose in distaste at the grease stains. “He asked if I could hang again tomorrow. I know we’re working the shop in the morning. Do we have any evening plans?” Ford shook his head.

“Great! You can come with us, if you want.” He grabbed his pajamas off the bed. Mabel would be checking on whether or not he was getting ready for that bath in a few minutes. At least she had a million different types of bubbles. She also had water guns and bubble guns. It made baths much more interesting and fun.

“No… I think that’s more your style. I’ll, uh, trade in my library books.” He smiled and put his hand on the journal. Stan turned back to the bed to hide his frown. He wasn’t sure why but he felt like something had just gone wrong. Ford was still upset about something but he didn’t know what it was.

* * *

Bud, as it turned out, made a pretty great friend, if not a strange one. He insisted on going out to eat for lunch and dinner. He liked hanging out in public spaces, which Stan didn’t mind, but was a little annoying. They hardly ever got to go back to the car. Bud also got a lot of free things because he was popular with the town’s folk. He didn’t go to Greasy’s diner anymore though. Not since their first lunch.

Right now Stan was spread out on his bed and staring at the ceiling. It was raining outside and Ford was helping Graunty Mabel make diner. He’d invited Ford along to their hangout yesterday to see Avengers. Ford had come and Stan had really enjoyed it but Bud had been odd the whole time. He hardly talked at all and seemed to frown whenever Ford said anything. Ford was a smart person and it could be intimidating but it didn’t make sense for Bud to be irritated any time he talked.

Bud also gave him a lot of things. He’d gotten at least a dozen model cards, a pack of trick cards, a new paddle board, a baseball bat, and a couple of the Avenger Comic Books. He was loaded so Stan just figured it was how the kid showed friendship.

Stan sat up on his bed and fiddled with the brass knuckles his dad had given him for his birthday last year. He’d gotten that and the boxing lessons. That was all Pa saw in him. Someone who could protect his brother. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew he wasn’t as smart as Ford. He knew he couldn’t do a handful of the things his brother could. And that was okay because Stan loved Ford more than he loved anything else on this earth. He loved him much more than he loved himself.

That was probably why he couldn’t figure Bud out. He’d never known anyone who preferred his company to his brother. Ford was the smart one. He was the one that knew big words and didn’t goof off or break things. Sure, Stan was funny, but that typically just got him into more trouble. 

Why did Bud hang out with him? The kid was a great conman. He had convinced almost the entire town that he was a psychic. Ma could hardly convince anyone that she was psychic and she didn’t even have to look people in the eye. Bud was rich too. He made loads of money with his gig. He had no qualms spending a hundred dollars at a restaurant. Pa wouldn’t spend ten dollars on a meal for either of the twins. 

He’d never gotten gifts that were meant just for him. If he got something special, then Ford was getting something special as well. Even Graunty Mabels sweater, which he loved, wasn’t just his. Sure, she’d made them both unique, but she’d still made both of them one.

“Ugh!” He shouted the word out and flopped backwards on his bed. Where was his brother even at? Stanley was always there when Ford needed his help. Why couldn’t Ford be here when Stanley was having an existential crisis?

God. He needed some help. He knew Bud was a conman and it made sense that the kid was trying to con him… Still… It was hard to think that. He wasn’t sure if it was his pride getting in his way or something else. It didn’t make sense that Bud would put so much effort into getting Stanley to like him. Stanley had nothing. No money, no possessions. Just a good left hook and a quick wit. 

Thinking things like that just made his stomach hurt. He flopped over onto his stomach and looked at the brass knuckles on his hand. What was he good for? Why did Bud want to hang out with him so much? Why did he not seem to care about Ford at all?

What was his game? It had to all be some elaborate game. People didn’t go out of their way to hang with Stan. 

“Oh, here you are.” Stan pushed himself upright and shoved his brass knuckles under his pillow. Stanford was standing in the doorway with a small smile. His hand was resting on the doorway and he looked like he had run up the stairs. His hair was tussled with leaves in it. Had he been exploring without Stan? “Graunty Mabel told me to tell you that dinner was ready.” He paused to inhale and his smile slipped away. His eyes were staring intently at Stan who suddenly felt vulnerable.

He hated that feeling. 

He jumped off the bed and put on a show stopping smile. Ford’s frown didn’t lessen but his gaze softened. 

“You are eating with us tonight, right? Or did Bud-“ Stan cut him off before he could finish his statement.

“No. I’m not hanging with him tonight.” He walked up to his brother and slung his arm over his shoulders.

“Good, because Graunty Mabel made me clean off the picnic table outside for us to all eat at. Apparently Wendy and Fiddleford will be joining us.”

That explained the leaves. “What’re we having, Sixer?”

“Uh, I don’t know. It smelled like chicken but looked like meatloaf."

Well that sounded like a Graunty Mabel meal. He followed his brother down the steps and tried to push his confusing thoughts about Bud aside for the evening. He could focus on them another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was part one. I'm going to try and paint Bud as a bit of a sociopath. Not a full fledged one, but with some tendencies. I mean, Gideon had to have learned it from somewhere and Mrs. Gleeful seemed to frightened to have had psychopathy tendencies or socipathic tendencies. We'll cover more of that next chapter. We're also getting the first look at Stan and Filbrick's relationship. I'm not a fan of Filbrick and it'll show in my writing.


	4. The Hand That Rocks The Mabel: Don't trust anyone whose hair is bigger than their head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of my overly long chapter.

_And I want a moment to be real_   
_Wanna touch things I don't feel_   
_We want to hold on and feel I belong_   
_And how can they say I'll never change_   
_They're the ones that stay the same_   
_I'm the one now_   
_Cause I'm still here_   
_-I’m Still Here (Jim’s Theme) Treasure Planet_   


Stan's gut had told him it was a bad idea. He almost always listened to his gut. Any time he didn’t listen to his gut things went bad. It had loudly insisted from the start that something was wrong with the way Bud acted. Now, he was beginning to get a clear vision of just what that was.

Stan had followed Bud to his factory. Gideon Gleeful was apparently the type to stick his kid’s likeness on everything and try and hock it. There were dolls, scissors, shirts, bats, bracelets, pins, and even shoes. Bud had wanted to take Stan up to the roof but he wasn’t going to do that. He hated heights and knew that would just be a mess waiting to happen. Ford was the only one who could talk him down from those panic attacks. So Bud had settled for giving him a tour of the factory and then they’d settled on its front steps.

Bud was using binoculars to spy on the people in the town. Stan found that he could see Greasy’s Diner from here. Susan wasn’t visible, but it was cool nonetheless.

“Stan,” he said suddenly, “you and me, we’re a lot alike.”

“Huh?”

“Nobody sees beneath our façade. They just think we’re the show we put on. People like you and me, well, we’re lucky to have each other.” He turned to look at Stanley and smiled. “This world just thinks we’re dumb conmen who can’t do any better. They won’t give us a fair shake.” He pat Stan on the shoulder and smiled at him. “They won’t see how brilliant you are.” He picked his binoculars back up and turned towards the town again. “We can go so far together, Stan. You and me, we can take over this whole town.”

Stan didn’t know what to say to any of that. Bud was always complementing him in someway. It seemed to be important to him. The compliments always seemed to have a darker side to them though. He couldn’t seem to compliment Stan without mentioning how terrible everyone else was. He hadn’t really thought about that till this moment. They were sitting on the steps to an actual factory that was dedicated to Bud and he was talking about the way the town was against him. It didn’t quite land right on Stan.

"Take your Great Aunt for example."

"What about her?" Stan might have had a few issues with his Graunty, but he wasn't going to let anyone talk down about his family. Not even bud.

"Bud smiled as though he liked Stan's defensive nature. "You know what she does for a living? She makes up stories to entertain people. She gets paid for spinning yarns. The more fantastical they are the more she'll get paid. She does all that and the town loves her for it."

"So?" It was, as far as Stan could tell, the same thing Bud did. 

"I imagine if you were to do the same thing, she'd get onto you. Probably say that making things up for money was beneath you, huh? Double standards is all that is. People in this town, in this world, they're full of double standards. There are so few you can trust to do right by you."

Stan frowned and looked down to where the Mystery Shack was. He wasn't sure he agreed with Bud. Something didn't ring quite right to Stan. It felt like Bud wanted him to believe it for some reason. Like he wanted Stan too not trust his Great Aunt. 

Bud sighed and leaned back against the steps. He lowered his glasses and considered the town in front of them.

“When I’m here looking out at all of them little people, I feel like I could be king of this world.” He nearly hissed the last word which made Stan really uneasy. There was a hungry look in his eyes that reminded Stan of when the Gobblewonker had tried to eat them. Or when the gnomes had tried to snatch Graunty Mabel. It was a demanding, entitled look. A look that wanted to devour.

He also noticed at this point that Bud had scoot closer to him while he’d been looking through his own binoculars. Bud smiled at him now, showing his teeth, and laughed. “I guess I would make you my knight, huh?”

Stan laughed and shook his head. It sounded uncomfortable even to his own ears. “Quit it, man.” He joked with a good natured smile. He had suspected Bud might be gay but he hadn’t really asked. He didn’t really care.

“I can’t quit it,” Bud rushed the words out as his eyes got bigger. He turned towards Stan so there was very little room between them. Stan felt his own eyes get huge. “I’m speaking from the heart.”

“From the where now?” This was past uncomfortable. If Bud kept talking it was going to get weird and their friendship would change. He didn’t want that to happen. Not like this. Stan put his hands on the step to push himself up so he could make a quick escape. Bud snatched Stan’s left hand in his own.

“I’ve never felt this close with anyone.” Bud nearly whispered the words and he squeezed Stan’s hand. Stan managed to jerk his hand free only for Bud to start touching his hair. He batted the hand away and stood up a little clumsily. Bud rushed up as well. “Don’t leave! Not until I’ve said my piece!” He reached for Stan’s face and that freaked him out. He wasn't being subtle on the 'no' signals. Verbal it was then.  


“Uh, man, I’m, uh… I like girls. I mean. I really like girls.” Susan popped in his head with her cute smile and pink uniform.

Bud flushed a vibrant red and grabbed Stan’s hand again. He got a much firmer grip that Stan had trouble breaking free of. He used his hold to pull Stan closer. Bud was tiny but he was strong and heavy.

“Do you, Stan? Because that’s not what I’ve been seeing. It’s not what they’ve been seeing.” He motioned towards the entire town like they were part of this discussion. Stan felt his own face flush and felt a weird twist of panic in his gut. Is that what people thought? That he was dating Bud? They were  _ crazy _ about him. If Stan said they weren’t, would anyone even believe him?

Was this his fault? Maybe he had confused Stan for Ford? Ford was gay. Not that he’d ever said anything about it and the two of them hadn’t hung out at all…

What was he saying? Of course this wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t flirted. He had hung out with Bud. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Or is it that you’re homophobic?"

“I do like girls. I always have. Just ‘cause I don’t want to go out with ya doesn’t make me a homophobe. Let me go, kid.”

The last word seemed to have a bad effect on Bud. His gaze narrowed in the deadliest glare Stan had ever seen Bud give. It was gone in an instant but the anger in it was burned in Stan’s mind. Bud promptly softened his face into a pleading pout.

“But I  _ love you. _ “

Bud brought the captured hand towards his face like he intended to kiss it and that was the final straw on Stan’s back. He was getting out of here. He wasn’t sure what game Bud was playing or why he thought any of this was okay but Stan wasn’t staying to find out. He twisted his hand free of Bud’s.

“I said  _ no. _ ” He spun on his heel and booked it towards the bikes.

He reached the spot where they had leaned the bikes against the factory in a matter of seconds. Bud was nearly beside him. He tried to smile but he gave it up as a lost cause. His hands were shaking and he knew his smile looked panicked.

“Bud, I wanted a friend and thought you were fun but I’m not interested. At all. I can’t be. I’ll, uh… Goodbye.” He grabbed hold of the bike and jumped on it. He pedaled like a crazy person and made it to the bottom of the hill before Bud had even managed to get on his bike.

He raced home with a pounding heart. He kept replaying the last few minutes through his head and felt shocked that Bud had probably been trying to kiss him on those steps. Stan had made it clear he liked girls and Bud hadn’t listened. Everything in their ‘friendship’ had just been Bud trying to get with Stan. He hadn’t wanted to be his friend at all.

He abandoned his bike on the lawn and rushed up the steps to the Mystery Shack when he got there. He glanced in the living room and didn’t see Ford so he ran up the stairs to the attic. Ford had at least fifty papers sprawled around him and a half dozen books open.

“Stan, guess what-what happened?” His brother stood up immediately and stepped over his carefully organized papers to reach Stan. Stan, for his part, felt freaked out and couldn’t describe why. He grabbed Ford’s shoulder and panted for his breath. Ford didn’t say anything. He just supported Stan and stared at him in alarm.

“Bud lied.” He finally managed to get out. Ford didn’t say anything but nodded encouragingly. Stan released his brother and went to the bed. Ford joined him on it and Stan leaned against him. They sat like that for a moment before he finally started to talk. He told Ford everything that had happened. Starting with their hangouts and ending with his panic filled escape.

“I think he was trying to kiss me. All this time he just wanted to date me.” Stan looked at the dresser they shared and felt a rage bubble in his stomach. He’d put the stuff Bud had bought him on it. All of it was a lie. Just an attempt to buy Stan off. He shoved it off the dresser angrily. The cars went everywhere and that made Stan feel better.

“Hey,” Ford reached for his shoulder, “did he hurt you?”

“Nah, he couldn’t have.” Though Stan wasn’t sure about that any longer and that just made him angrier. “But, uh. He kept grabbing my hand. He wouldn’t let me go. I told him to stop and he didn’t care. I had to run away to get him to stop.”

He groaned loudly in frustration and fell back against the bed. He grabbed his hair in his hands and growled his annoyance. “What am I supposed to do? We’re supposed to hang out tonight. He made reservations at that steak house as ‘an early birthday present.’” He shook his head. “How do I tell him I’m not coming? He freaked me out, Sixer.” He swallowed and opened his eyes to see a look of panic in his brother’s eyes. “I don’t think he’ll listen to me. I told him no and he didn’t care.”

Ford seemed to relax slightly and shrugged. “I could tell him for you?”

Stan blinked up at his brother and felt a huge weight lift off his shoulder. “Ya’d do that?”

“Yeah.” Ford nodded his head like it was obvious. “You threw yourself between me and an actual monster. This is the least I can do.”

“Hey,” Stan sat up right so he was eye level with his brother. “You know that wasn’t your fault, right?” Ford’s eyes instantly dropped to ground. This was the second time Stan had said those words and it was clear they weren’t sinking in. Stan jumped at the opportunity to help them register with his brother. Helping Ford meant he didn’t have to think about his own problems. About how he’d somehow managed to screw up a friendship and how Graunty Mabel thought he was a disappointment. “I’m happy to punch a monster any time. Besides. That was cool. I can say I’ve punched a sea monster. Who else has that bragging right?”

Ford smiled and it almost seemed sincere. His brother would get it eventually. Stan would make sure of it.

* * *

Ford made good on his promise and went to the restaurant in Stan’s stead. They had tacos that night and watched Ducktective with Graunty Mabel. She seemed happy to have Stan their and even let him have a second Frutie Pop. Everything was just dandy until the next morning. They were eating at the table like they usually did. Mabel had made muffins today with five different types of berries. Stan would have only been able to name four berries if he’d been asked. All five of them were really good.

“Stan?” Mabel’s voice had a weird quality that made Stan look up from his partially eaten muffin. His aunt was holding the Gravity Falls Gossiper in her hands.

“Yeah?” He asked around the muffin in his mouth.

“Is this true?” She flipped the paper around and pointed at the picture there. It was a picture of him and Bud walking through the town. He was laughing and Bud was smiling. He could see longing in Bud’s face now that he knew to look for it. He shuddered and read the headline ‘Gleeful’s Little Buddy.’ Oh God, did the whole town really think they were together? Was he crazy?

“They were hanging out but they’re not now.” Ford intervened before Stan could reply. Mabel glanced at him before focusing on Stan again.

“That’s who you’ve been hanging out with so much? I thought it was Soos. Are you,” she swallowed and put the paper down as if it was something gross, “are you still seeing him?”

“No.” Ford said defensively. Stan offered him a grateful smile and turned back to his Great Aunt. He didn’t like the way the question had been asked.

“Don’t hang out with them. I don’t know about Bud… But I know Gideon and he is a horrible person. He’s lying, manipulative, and selfish.” She shuddered and Stan felt his gut twist angrily. What had that man done to his Graunty?

“What happened, Graunty Mabel?” It was Ford who asked the question. He put his cup of juice down and gave her a very serious look.

“Something in the past, dear.” She answered quickly. “He lied and tried to trick me. He failed.” She looked back at Stan and smiled. “I hope nothing like that happened to you.” She poked his cheek playfully, “But I have no doubt that if Bud tried any of that nonsense with you he’d learn his lesson pretty quick. No one messes with the Pines.”

“Don’t worry, Graunty Mabel. I’m not hanging out with him anymore.” He smiled more cheerfully than he’d felt since the factory and finished his muffin.

* * *

“Hello, is this Ford Pines?”

“Yes.” Ford replied in the old fashioned phone. “May I ask who this is?”

“Toby Determined here, with the Gravity Falls Gossiper.” Ford frowned and almost put the phone down. “I’ve got a few questions for you about,” there was a sound of paper shuffling and then Toby’s whiny voice returned, “a gnome invasion? I have a tip that you’re the man to ask about strange going ons.”

A thrum of excitement went through Ford’s body. An actual paper wanted to talk to him about the gnome anomaly. Granted, it was a hokey, local paper, but it was a paper none the less.

“Of course!”

“Great!” Toby replied. “Meet me at 412 Gopher Road.” Ford jot down the address and thanked Toby before hanging up the phone. He started towards the door before stopping and thinking better of it. He couldn’t very well berate Stan for doing that and then do the exact same thing himself. He tore out a scrap piece of paper from the notebook by the counter and wrote a quick letter to his brother. He signed it and left it at the cash register for his brother to find. He didn’t see anyone on his way out.

He biked down the road towards 412. He had thought that the Gossiper’s headquarters was further into town but he hadn’t actually looked for it before. When he did find 412 Gopher road, he was confused. This looked like an old warehouse more than a newspaper location. Perhaps they printed the paper here? But it seemed too large for even that.

Had there been gnome sightings here? He should have brought a bat or the leaf blower. Or Stanley. He’d been so excited, he hadn’t been thinking clearly.

He went up the steps and tried the door. It was unlocked so Ford went on inside. It was a immensely tall factory that felt abandoned. The windows were dirty and partially boarded up. There were boxes everywhere, stacked up to the ceiling.

“Hello, Ford.” A voice near the front of the factory called out the words with a country twang. Ford jumped at the unexpected sound and turned to see who it was. Bud Gleeful, dressed in his baby blue suit and green bolo tie, was walking towards him. He had a small doll in his hand and a fake smile on his lips.

So this had been some kind of a trick. What for? Bud had seemed a little… odd, when Ford told him that Stan wouldn’t be hanging out with him anymore. He’d just written it off as heart ache and left.

“What do you want?” He called out in what he hoped was a commanding tone.

“Stanford Pines… You’ve been here for what, two, three weeks? Have you enjoyed your time in Gravity Falls?”

Ford ignored his question. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

“What do you want? I’m not interested in hanging out with you either.”

“Listen here, freak.” Ford managed not to flinch at the violently hissed word. He’d been called that since he was an infant. Bud wasn’t the most imposing person who had called him it. “You think you’re clever? This town has secrets your mind couldn’t begin to comprehend.”

Secrets? What did Bud know? Had he seen things like the Gnomes and Gobblewonker?

Bud had stopped walking towards him and was playing with the doll now. He kept his gaze firmly on Ford and there was something chilling about his smile. A protective urge welled up in his chest and he glared back. This moron had tried to coerce Stan into dating him. Ford knew Stan hadn’t told him everything that went down the other day. He had a feeling this twerp had said some cruel things to his brother. Stan got enough of that at home. He wouldn’t let this child continue that.

“Is this about Stan? Listen, he’s never going to date you. He doesn’t like you.”

“Liar!” The word was screeched and suddenly everything about Bud’s demeanor had changed. Gone was the cool and collected child playing with a doll. There was fury on every inch of his face and fire in his eyes. Ford took an instinctive step back. “You turned him against me!” His hand went to grasp his necklace and it started to glow. “He was meant to be mine!”

“What are you –“ Ford’s words were abruptly cut off as he found himself flying up into the air. A greenish light filled his vision so he couldn’t properly see Bud. A crushing force came around him and then he was being flung through the air into a pile of boxes. Bud stalked towards him with a wicked smile.

“Reading minds isn’t all I can do.”

But he was a fake, wasn’t he?

* * *

Stan walked into the Mystery Shack with a tired stretch. He’d been helping Graunty Mabel give tours for the last hour and he was ready for a snack.

“Ford!” He called for his brother but didn’t hear a response. He looked around and realized that Sixer was not in the gift shop. A piece of paper was on the ground which was unusual. He picked it up and recognized Ford’s handwriting.

_ Stan, _

_ I just received a call from The Gravity Falls Gossiper. They wish to interview me about the recent Gnome sightings. I’ll be at 412 Gopher Road if Graunty Mabel asks. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Ford _

Stan very nearly dropped the note. 412 Gopher Road was Bud’s factory. If Ford went there to talk to the Gossiper, he was being tricked. He had no idea what game Bud was playing, but he wasn’t going to let it happen. He’d seen the crazy look in Bud’s eyes as he biked away. He wouldn’t give Bud a chance to hurt his brother because of something Stan did.

He dropped the note to the ground and ran for the door. He got on his bike and drove without properly seeing the road. His heart was pounding and there was a terrible fear thrumming through his body. Something horrible was going to happen. Ford was in danger.

He skidded to a stop in front of the factory and fell of his bike. Ford’s bike was leaned nearly against the building. Stan left his on the ground. He ran to the building and ripped the door open.

The factory was as big and dark as he remember it. There were boxes stacked everywhere but there were a lot that had been knocked over as well. Bud was in the middle of the room. He was wearing his ugly baby blue suit and his stupid bolo tie. Directly in front and above him was Ford. His brother was glowing green and struggling in the air. A giant pair of scissors were chomping menacingly towards him.

Stan nearly screamed. Ford had bruises already forming on his face and his shirt was ripped. His glasses were missing as well.

“Bud!”

The fat boy turned towards Stan with a gasp and the scissors fell to the ground. Bud’s hand was on his bolo tie, which was glowing similarly to the way Ford was glowing.

“Stan, my Knight!”

The situation was not in Stan’s control. The scissors could come back at any moment and it looked like Bud had complete control of his brother’s body. He guessed it had something to do with the necklace which meant he needed to get that necklace.

Thankfully, acquiring items that weren’t his was something Stan was gifted at. He put on the most award winning smile he could summon and made sure not to look at Ford. His façade would crack if he looked at his struggling brother. The rage would take over.

“Bud, I’ve been looking for you. We need to talk about yesterday.” He went towards Bud with his smile firmly in place. Bud took a hopeful step towards him.

“You mean you realized what the whole town already knew? That we were clearly meant to be together?”

He reached Bud and had to clench his jaw when the boy tried to grab his hands. He snapped his hand forward and grabbed hold of the bolo tie around Bud’s throat and ripped it down. The cord broke from around Bud’s neck and Stan had it. His brother crashed to the floor as Bud realized what Stan had just done.

“No!” He screeched. “My tie, give it back!” He scrambled to grab it out of Stan’s hand. Stan remembered how surprisingly strong the boy was and decided to get it away from him. He tossed it to Ford who caught it in his six fingered hand.

“Ha!” He yelled victoriously. Stan noticed that his voice was hoarse and he felt a shocked breath leave his body. There were angry, red marks on his throat. Bud had  _ choked _ his brother.

Bud released a noise like an angry bull and charged Ford. His brother squeaked in surprise and then Bud was crashing in to him. They collided with the window behind them and then they were falling off the cliff.

The world stalled around Stan in an endless moment as his brother crashed through the window. He saw Ford’s face go from shock at being hit by Bud turn to confusion as he fell through the broken glass. A shrill scream shook the air around them. Stan didn’t know who it was screaming. His blood pounded in his veins matching the sudden pounding of his feet. He hurled himself towards the window and grabbed on to the ledge. The bolo tie glittered at his feet. He grabbed it in clumsy fingers. It throbbed with power in his hand. He forced himself to look out the window and watched the world spin below him. He had never been dizzier.

Ford couldn’t die. He couldn’t die. Stan couldn’t let him die. With a heart that was beating erratically, Stan through himself out the window. He could see them below him. They were rushing towards the ravine floor. He had no idea how to work this gem thing.

_ Save him, save him, stop them. Let him fly. Let us fly. Keep him SAFE! _

His thoughts were a scrambled rush that he couldn’t even make out. It was fear and pain and a desperate plea for his brother’s life. The tie vibrated in his hand and warmth exploded out of it. Stan found his vision tinted green. He saw the same glow encase his brother and Bud. They floated to the ground and Stan lowered himself as well. He left Bud encased in the green glow.

He was trembling and nauseous and wasn’t certain how much longer his legs could hold him up. He couldn’t look at Ford or he knew he’d fall down. He looked at Bud instead. Bud who had called him clever and funny. Who had said he liked Stan. Who claimed to love him. Who had tried to coerce him into a date and had hurt his brother.

He clenched the tie and pointed as menacingly at Bud as he could.

“Listen, Bud. Don’t ever touch my brother again. Whatever friendship we had? It’s over.” 

“What are you saying?” Bud sobbed the words out as Stanley held the tie in his fist. It was growing warmer with every second. He was having to exercise all his will power not to use it. He wanted to throw this bastard against a tree.

“I don’t want to see you again.” He swallowed away the pain in his chest. He had been betrayed by this monster. He should have known not to trust him. What was it Ford’s journal said? Trust no one?

He risked a glance at his brother and saw him sitting on the ground coughing. There were dark marks around his throat that terrified Stanley more than throwing himself out a window had. He rounded on Bud again.

“If you come near my family again I will destroy you.” Stan threw him to the ground and released the tie’s hold on him.

“But I love you! I’m the only one who will love you! You think anyone else in this town will ever give a damn about you?” Bud screamed the words and tore his hair as he stood up. Ford flinched away from him in fright and Stanley saw red. He raised the tie in his hand and forced the kid back and up into the air. 

“You’re crazy! I never want to see you again! Do you hear me? Don’t  _ ever _ come near my family or me again!” He threw Bud through the air and onto the dirt with a furious shout. Bud let out a gasp of pain as he landed and rolled to his side. He was covered in dirt and his blue suit coat was ripped. “Run! Get out of here!” 

Bud got up to his feet and stumbled forward a few feet. He fell again and struggled upright with a look over his shoulder. He locked his eyes on Stanley as he rose up and gasped. “I’ll get you back, Stan Pines! Mark my words!” He ran into the woods with a sob. Stan let him go and turned to his brother. 

“Sixer!” He ran towards his brother and dropped to his knees beside him. He slid in the dirt a little, skinning his knees. He didn’t notice or care. His hands went to Ford’s shoulders as he looked at the bruises on Ford’s neck. “Oh god.” He choked out. 

Ford placed his six fingered hand on Stan’s arm. “Hey”, he murmured softly, “its okay.” He coughed a little and swallowed with a wince. “You were amazing. I had no idea Bud was so crazy.” 

Stan choked on a sob and wrapped his arms around his brother. He brought him close in a crushing hug as tears flooded his eyes. Holy shit. Bud had just tried to  _ kill _ his brother. He’d nearly lost Ford because he was too scared to confront a stupid person he thought was a friend. How could he have been so blind? He’d almost lost Ford. He’d almost lost Ford. He’d almost lost Ford.

He couldn’t stop the repeating thought and he felt bile rise in his throat. Ford’s arms wrapped around him and suddenly his twin was doing the comforting. He was rubbing the back of Stan’s head and squeezing him tight and murmuring something about being worthy of love. 

Stan couldn’t stop crying and he  _ hated _ crying. His dad had told him countless times that only wimps cried. Real men swallowed pain. Real men didn’t even notice pain. 

He could never stop messing up. 

“You know that, right?” They were the first words Ford managed to say clearly and Stan didn’t understand what they meant.

“Know what?” His voice betrayed him. It was thick with tears and shaky from fear. He should have kept his fat, stupid, mouth shut. Now Ford would think he was selfish. What reason did he have to cry? Ford had been the one who was choked. 

“Know that Bud was wrong.” Ford pulled back enough to look Stan in the eye. His glasses were knocked askew and Stan’s fingers itched to correct them. Ford’s gaze wouldn’t let him move though. They were commanding his attention. “He didn’t love you and you are very, very lovable. You have lots of people who love you. I don’t know what’s wrong with Bud, and there is  _ so _ much wrong with him, but I know that you are worth loving.”

It occurred to him in that strange moment, locked in a gazing match with his brother, that he had never actually heard anyone say that before. He’d been called a lot of things in his life. Hurtful phrases that stuck themselves to him like Graunty Mabel’s stickers. Things he couldn’t peel off and forget. He had never been told he was ‘worth’ anything. Let alone worth loving.

He didn’t even know it was something he needed to hear. He didn’t know it was something he’d desperately wanted to hear. 

“I love you, Stan.” Ford said the words clearly and with a sincere smile. Stan had to swallow hard to keep from crying anymore. Instead he dashed the tears away and smiled wetly at his twin and best friend.

“Love you to, Sixer.” He swallowed and then realized he still had the bolo tie in his hand. “Uh, what should we do with this?”

“Destroying it seems like a good idea.” 

For a split second Stanley considered saying no. He’d never held anything nearly as powerful before. He could do anything he wanted with this. They wouldn’t have to worry about any monster they saw here. He wouldn’t have to worry about bullies or getting hit by anyone ever again.

But if they somehow lost it… Ford could get choked again. That didn’t make it much of a choice. He glanced around the area they were sitting in and saw a rock a few inches to his right. He raised the green gem and then brought it down hard on the rock. It smashed into tiny pieces with a strange vibration. The impact forced his hand back and then there was a second wave of force that about knocked his entire body prone.

“A little warning next time?” Ford had fallen to the side from the force of the explosion and was now trying to sit up again. Stan helped him up feeling even guiltier. 

“Sorry, Sixer.”

“Not like you knew it’d do that.” He shrugged and dusted himself off. “What’s say we go home?”

“Yeah, Graunty Mabel’s probably worried about us at this point.” He got up a little clumsily and offered his brother a hand. “She isn’t going to be happy to see that.” He motioned towards Ford’s throat.

Ford rubbed a hand against his throat and frowned.

“He went nuts. He seemed to think he was entitled to you.” He shook his head and seemed to notice his missing glasses for the first time. Stan helped him back to where their bikes were parked. Ford was frightfully near sighted so they walked them back to the Mystery Shack. Graunty Mabel was out front waving goodbye to a van of customers she spotted them walking up and waved excitedly.

“Hey! I just got supplies in, wanna make- what happened?” She recognized the bruises, cuts, and ripped clothing they were sporting and rushed over to where they were standing. They both dropped their bikes and went to her side. “Who did this? What happened?”

“We weren’t in the woods.” Stan state. He wanted to go ahead and make sure they didn’t get in trouble for that. Mabel and Ford both gave him a strange look.

“We got in a fight with Bud. I think the kid’s as crazy as his grandpa.” Ford said. Mabel’s mouth popped open and she stared at Ford blankly.

“He didn’t get the message the first time.” Stan clarified.

“We had to give it more forcibly.” Ford continued. Stan grinned.

“With punching.” He hadn’t punched anything but he couldn’t exactly say he’d levitated Bud into a tree. This wasn't x-men after all.  


Graunty Mabel grabbed them by the hands and dragged them inside. She went past the living room, past the kitchen, and into the bathroom. She set them both on the edge of the tub and grabbed the massive first aid kit out of the cabinet. She then spent the next twenty minutes tending to each and every bruise, scrape, and cut. She didn’t berate them for fighting but taught them a few inventive phrases to describe the Gleefuls.

She put the items back up and knelt in front of them when she was finished.

“Listen, I don’t know what lies he tried to feed you, or what transpired that led to this- and I don’t need to know.” She put a hand on both their arms and leaned forward. She had a very serious expression on her face. “You don’t need to listen to whatever it was. Some people you just can’t be friends with. Their toxic and they’ll try and say that they care about you. They may think that they do care, but they’re wrong. It took me a long time to figure that out. You need to run away from people like that.” She gave both of their arms a squeeze and tried to smile but there was a deep sadness in it. “They aren’t worth getting hurt over.” 

She stood up and offered them both a hand to get up. “Come on now, that’s enough serious stuff. Let’s go get Ford another pair of glasses and stuff to make nachos.” She ruffled both their hair. "Food therapy is the best way to deal with crazy people. That, and Ducktective."  


Stan couldn't agree more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my personal head cannon that the Stan and Ford would be big fans of Treasure Planet. Jim's theme also seems to be a Theme song for Stanley. I wanted to really dig into some of his thought process with these two chapters to help set up later chapters and decisions. Ford's going to start getting expanded in the next two chapters. 
> 
> I don't know if it was obvious in this section or not, but I'm also in the group of people who think Filbrick Pines was likely an abusive parent. Stan got kicked out with the clothes on his back. We're not even sure he had a wallet. You also get hints in Lost Legends that Filbrick never gave Stan positive attention. I just see him as the kind who would probably hit their child. Specifically Stanley. Stanford is smart and has promise. He might be useful for cash later, can't hurt that.   
Basically, I really dislike Filbrick and will not be painting him with a flattering light in this fic.


	5. Double Dipper: Do you realize what this means? BBBBLLLAAAA!!

_You say it's your birthday_  
_It's my birthday too, yeah_  
_They say it's your birthday_  
_We're gonna have a good time_  
_I'm glad it's your birthday_  
_-The Beatles_

“WAKE UP!” There was a minor explosion accompanying the shouted words that had the twins springing up in their beds. Ford opened his eyes to see glitter, streamers, and confetti raining from the sky. There were balloons everywhere and Graunty Mabel standing in the middle of their room with a noisemaker and a party hat.

“Come on!” She cheered, “Get up! You’re teenagers!” Ford blinked and rubbed at his eyes to try and get the glitter out.

“What’s going on?” Stan asked sleepily. Ford grinned even as he groped for his glasses. Stan needed at least a half hour after he was woken up before he was able to think properly. 

“Graunty Mabel, what-“ he found his glasses and shoved them on.

“It’s your birthday!” Mabel pulled a string by their bed and a large banner fell down with the words ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY!’ on it. Ford turned his head to find Stan doing the same with a huge smile. They were teenagers now! PG 13 movies, here they come! They could go on social media without lying about being 13.

He clambered out of the bed and was caught in crushing hug from Graunty Mabel. 

“Get dressed and come downstairs ASAP!” She released Ford who staggered back to his bed and grabbed hold of Stan instead. His brother put up the barest of protest to the hug. “I’ve been planning this day since April!”

She twirled her noisemaker a few more times in utter excitement before she jogged down the stairs. She was far spryer than a woman her age had any right to be.

“We’re teenagers!” Stan shouted. He was standing on top of his bed and gave a victorious jump. Ford beamed back at him while he scrambled to grab out his clothes for the day. He hadn’t anticipated Graunty Mabel making a big deal of it. Which now, in hindsight, seemed ridiculous. Graunty Mabel celebrated everything. She would obviously freak out over a birthday. She had to have spent a while making the banner over their head. 

Ford pulled his shirt over his head before grabbing the neatly wrapped package he’d hidden in his underwear. He turned towards Stan to find him holding a sloppily wrapped, large package.

They both grinned at each other and swapped gifts. They always started their birthdays off with each other’s gifts. Others didn’t always get what they gave each other. Or they judged them for it. Neither of them ever had much money so they had to get really clever.

Stan had chosen a deep red paper. The item felt squishy which made Ford think it was probably clothing. He set it on the bed and tugged the paper open. A trench coat fell out and Ford found his mouth popping open in shock. It was just like the one the Tenth Doctor would wear. He lifted it up and instantly pulled it on. It fit a little large which meant he could grow into it. There were extra pockets too! A big hidden one inside that would be perfect for sticking the journal in!

It was perfect in so many ways. He’d always loved Doctor Who and the first episode he’d ever seen had starred David Tennant. He’d been an instant fan of the look of the character. He stuck his hand in the pockets at his side and let out a surprised gasp. There was a small composition notebook stuffed in one. He pulled it out and saw that Stan had sketched an outline of a six fingered hand and put a 1 at the center of it. 

He looked up to see Stan nervously watching him.

“Is it okay? I couldn’t afford a new one so I had to get that at a thrift shop.”

“It’s _ perfect!” _ He grabbed Stan in a tight hug that his twin quickly returned. He released him and stepped back to look at himself in the mirror Graunty Mabel had insisted on putting in the closet. He saw his scrawny frame staring back at him but something looked different. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but he liked whatever it was. He also noticed that the sleeves were long enough that they covered most of his hands. 

He heard a rustle of paper and looked over to see Stan opening the present he’d gotten him. He held up the Captain’s hat with a surprised smile and beamed at his brother. He’d had Graunty Mabel embroider the symbol she’d put on his sweater on it. The fish with the ball in its mouth. He’d written ‘Stanley Pines, Captain of the Stan O’ War’ on the inside brim.

“Captain? Really?”

Ford shrugged. “Yeah, really. You had a quick head with the Gobblewonker. I think you’ll make a great captain. Just don’t ram us into any islands.” Stan plopped the hat on his head and stuck a ridiculous pose.

“I am literally never taking this off.” Ford grinned all the larger and raised his hand to his head in a mock salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.” He lowered his hand and looked around their decoration ridden room. “We should probably go downstairs. I imagine Graunty Mabel is about to explode with excitement.”

Stan laughed and threw his arm around Ford’s shoulders.

“Definitely.” 

They jogged down the stairs and through the hallway into the kitchen. Mabel had made waffles this morning and had all the toppings out. 

“Eat up you two. We got a big day ahead of us.” She served them a stack of waffles. Stan promptly grabbed three and piled it with m&m’s, sprinkles, whip cream, and chocolate syrup. Mabel had also decorated the kitchen with balloons and streamers. She’d put a sign on both their chairs that said ‘Birthday Twin.’ She joined them and they all ate their breakfast with happy chatter about what all they’d be doing now that they were thirteen. Once they were finished she switched topics.

“I’ve got most everything done for the party.”

“Party?” Stan asked around a disturbingly large amount of waffle.

“Yeah,” Graunty Mabel said like it was obvious. “You’re thirteen now. We have to have a birthday party!”

Stan and Ford shared a look. They’d never had an actual party. They’d usually get cake, pizza, and gifts from their parents and some family. That was about it. Occasionally pa would spring for a movie but mostly they just went to the beach and played until it was dark.

“It’ll be at five. I’ve got most everything done but I still need someone to make copies.” She looked at Ford and offered him a toothy smile. “Would you mind doing that? I got other plans for Stan.” She rubbed her hands together with an evil cackle that was wonderfully executed. Stan laughed hard enough to snort milk out his nose which just made him and Mabel laugh harder.

Ford shook his head. He loved the two nuts in front of him. Gross or not.

“Sure, Graunty Mabel. What do you need copies of and how many?”

She managed to calm herself enough to answer. “Flyers for your party. I’ve already invited a lot of people but I want to make sure the town knows it’s happening. People here are forgetful. I’ve also already warned my people to keep all the Gleefuls out. I think ten should be enough. I’ll send Soos out later to hang them up. Fidds! Just the guy I was hoping to see. Did you get my copier fixed?”

“I reckon I did, Miss Pines. Though she was a bit of a tricky beast.” He winked at the twins. “She bites and spits ink out if you don’t treat her right.” 

“You’re a wonder.” Mabel stated with a happy smile. “Can you show Fordsy how to make copies?” She passed Ford the flyer she had made. It had ‘STAN AND FORD TURN 13’ along with the party’s details. She had sketched a picture of the shack decked out in party decorations that was surprisingly good.

“Sure.” Fiddleford snagged a few m&m’s and motioned for Ford to follow him out. Ford got out of the chair a little clumsily in his new trench coat. He grabbed his bottle of cherry juice and followed the handy man. He’d spent very little time with him. He knew Graunty Mabel had hired him when he was thirteen after she’d seen him rig a bicycle and a laptop together into a makeshift motorcycle. He was a quirky, inventive teenager that liked to cause explosions as much as Graunty Mabel. 

“Was that a birthday gift?” Fiddleford asked cheerfully once they were outside. His thick accent made Ford smile. It was as different from his own Jersey accent as you could get.

“From my brother.” He found himself blushing a little and wasn’t sure why. He realized he might look a little silly dressed in a trench coat in the middle of summer. 

“You look like the tenth doctor.” Fiddleford observed with a broad, easy, grin. “We just need to get you a sonic screwdriver and a robot dog. Though I could probably help with the dog. I’ve already made a few robots in my spare time. Just between you and me.” He winked at Ford and suddenly Ford couldn’t quite think. Fiddleford had his lips lifted in a lopsided grin that showed just a hint of teeth and made his eyes crinkle around the corners. 

He was kind and sincere and he knew about Doctor Who. What’s more, he invented things regularly. He was smart and had a fantastic laugh. His blond hair had caught the sunlight and his glasses had dropped down his nose. Fiddleford’s lopsided grin widened and made his eyes look brighter. “Come on, Ford.” He turned his blinding smile and brilliant eyes on Ford and he suddenly found it entirely impossible to breathe. He’d never seen someone so amazing in real life. It was like sunshine and masculinity and country had mixed into a person. 

Fiddleford didn’t notice Ford’s inability to breathe and opened the door to Mabel’s office. It was an

obnoxiously bright room that Ford had only been in once. She’d painted it a cheery purple and had decals of giant shooting stars on the wall that said ‘the real star is you!’ Her desk was painted a darker purple and she had a bubble gum pink chair. The old copier didn’t belong in the bright room. 

Ford hardly noticed the room at all. He only saw Fiddleford who was commenting on the copier. Ford wandered into the room after him without telling his feet to do so.

He had experienced this sensation once before in his life. He had, at the time, attributed it to being young and simply confusing the idea of someone being cool. He didn’t get crushes.

He stumbled up to the copier with his heart rabbiting in his chest. Fiddleford laughed at his own joke and lifted the top of the copier. He tapped it with his hand and pointed at the large green button.

“So it should light up.” Fiddleford began to reach for the button when a light flashed up from the copier. Fiddleford jerked back and blinked to get rid of the white spot in his vision. The machine made a whirring noise and then it started to spark. They both jumped back to escape the loud sparks. The machine made a clanking noise and then it spit out a sheet of paper. It didn’t have anything to catch the paper so it fell to the ground. It was a scan of half of Fiddleford’s arm. 

“Well,” Fiddleford laughed, “it might be a little buggy, but at least… it…” He trailed off as the paper shook. Ford felt his own mouth pop open as the ink began to bubble. A moment later the hand was separating from the paper. It became thicker until it was entirely 3D. It then began to crawl towards them.

“Holy Hootinany!” Fiddleford choked. Ford yelped and did the only thing he could think of as the copy arm drug itself towards them. He hurled his cherry juice. It collided with the arm and the glass shattered. The red juice coated the paper and the wooden floor. The fake arm instantly started to bubble like baking soda and vinegar. It shudder, and then it dissolved. The juice and foaming paper made a bloody looking mess.

“Was,” Ford swallowed thickly and tried again. “Was it supposed to do that?” Fiddleford fixed him with a look that said ‘No.’ He looked back at the disintegrated arm and took a step back.

“Well I reckon that we shouldn’t use this for the flyers.” Fiddleford finally said. He had a weird look on his face. Ford, for his part, was staring at the paper. What else could be copied? Did it have a limit to the size? Or if you had a large enough piece of paper could it copy it? Was it the copier or the ink that brought the object to life? There were so many possibilities. It took him at least a minute to even realize that Fiddleford was looking at him and expecting a response.

“Oh, no. Probably not.” He tried to smile and felt a nervous flurry in his stomach. He tried to squash it down.

“Don’t tell your Great Aunt about this.” Fiddleford added after a moment. He tapped the side of the copier with his foot. “She hates things like this. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Gravity Falls is a bit…”

“Weird?” Ford offered wryly. Fiddle ford nodded his head with a playful smile.

“Yeah,” he said, “doesn’t take most folks too long to notice. Though, the town don’t much like talking about it.” He furrowed his brow like there was something he was trying to remember but couldn’t. He gave his head a little shake that made his wavy hair flop around his face. It looked almost red in this light. Ford’s heart sped up at the sight.

_ The digits of pi are 3.14159265358979323846264338. _He let his mind get lost in the steady rhythm of reciting all the digits he had memorized. He knew it to the hundredth digit. It helped to ground him when he panicked or got distracted or too excited.

“Is there a local copy shop that’s a little less… realistic?” He asked the question in a steady, even tone and felt immensely proud of himself.

Fiddleford laughed and Ford started to count the digits again.

* * *

Stan’s task was to help his Graunty Mabel in setting up the stage. He had a feeling it was to try and distract him. She’d been paying more obvious attention to him since the Bud incident. Which seemed strange. He would have thought the Gobblewonker would be the thing that worried her more.

“You’re so much stronger than I was at your age.” Mabel remarked with a laugh as Stan hauled a speaker up. It was nearly as tall as him but he’d never let something like that stop him. “You’re probably stronger than I am now.” She patted the step she was sitting on and motioned for him to join her. “Come on, take a breather. Sit with your Graunty.”

He plopped down next to her and wiped his sweaty face off on his shirt. Mabel watched him with a fond grin. Her gaze drew slightly distant. Like she was seeing another thirteen year old in his place. She did that occasionally and it made him sad for her. He knew she didn’t have a lot of contact with family. They all thought her odd and tended to avoid her. Stan personally liked odd people. They were far more fun than normies. They also tended to make fiercely loyal friends. Unlike Bud.

That was a depressing train of thought that Stan was not traveling down now. It was his birthday. The only train he was getting on was the fun train.

His Great Aunt seemed to come out of her thoughts at the same time as him. She smiled and looked out at the decorated yard. She had tied balloons to nearly every tree. There was a huge banner hung between two trees that said ‘HAPPY 13th BIRTHDAY YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!’ There was a table set up with a table cloth that looked like an old map. There was a treasure chest to act as a cooler, and the stage was decorated like the deck of a pirate ship.

“What do you typically do for your birthdays?”

“Uh,” he looked at the glittery banner that she’d painted in old timey letters. “We don’t really celebrate? I mean, we get a cake and presents but we don’t have parties.” Graunty Mabel looked stricken. “But we’ve always wanted to.” He quickly added. He didn’t want her to think he wasn’t grateful.

“Stan, Stan, Stan,” She put her hand on his shoulder with a serious Mabel look. “I am going to give you so many parties because I care about my grand nephews. This will just be the first of many. We’re now going to throw a party for everything.” Her eyes got big and she squealed. “I have so many ideas!” She released his shoulder and pulled a notebook out of her sweater pocket. “Okay, questions. First, what are your favorite holidays?”

“Uh, Hanukkah and Christmas? Halloween?”

Mabel nodded her head and beamed. “Brilliant. For Halloween, do you prefer spooky or silly?”

“Spooky?” She nodded in approval.

“Costumes?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t get it. “But Graunty Mabel, those are _ months _away.”

“Who cares? Ever heard of Christmas in July? And wait till Summerween!” She cackled a little manically. “Oh boy are we in for a fun summer.” She hugged the list to her chest. “I’m going to have to get you to fill out a questionnaire later. For now. We need to get this stage completed.” She flipped to a different page in her notebook. “I’ve hidden the treasure already.” She promptly slapped a hand over her mouth but the damage was done.

“Treasure?” He grabbed her hands and peeled them off her face. “What are you talking about, treasure?” She pried her hands free of his grip.

“I’ll never tell, Stanley Pines!” She struggled to her feet and stuffed the notebook back in her pocket. “Now I’m letting Soos DJ tonight so we have to make sure it’s sets to his height.” She paused and seemed to remember something. “Oh!” She exclaimed. She pulled a small package out of her pocket and thrust it at him. “I’m giving you your official gifts tonight but this is just a little something I wanted to get you. Birthday or not.”

He ripped the tiny box open to reveal a knit keychain. It was a little stuffed figure that looked like Stan with a cape on that said “Stanley the Hero.”

“It’s a thank you gift. For coming to my rescue with those jerky gnomes and for fighting against that giant sea monster. Basically, you’re an incredible guy and I’m so proud of you.” She hugged him and booped him on the nose before she walked back towards the house like it was just an ordinary thing that had happened. Like Stan got told he was incredible all the time. Like it was typical for people to hand him custom keychains that said he was a hero. Like she hadn’t just gotten excited to throw parties for him and asked him questions about what he liked. Like she hadn’t decorated her yard and shut her business down for a day for them. Like she wasn’t giving them their first official party.

He swallowed thickly and rubbed at his eyes. Damn pollen.

* * *

Graunty Mabel hadn’t been kidding when she said she invited the whole town. There were people everywhere, adults and kids. He recognized a few of the adults but most of them he hadn’t talked with. Wendy was on door duty with an older, muscular woman named Grenda. They were apparently tasked with keeping the Gleefuls out at all cost. Ford was pretty sure Wendy had an axe.

Soos, Susan, and Fiddleford were in the actual party and those were the main towns folks they wanted to party with.

Ford really only cared about Fiddleford, and that was a problem. Fiddleford had brought a date. She was a pretty young woman with brown, curly hair that she’d braided back. Her skin was heavily freckled and she had green eyes. She was shorter than Fiddleford, who was charmingly tall, and curvy. She had on a bright sundress and thick glasses. She had nearly as thick of an accent as he had.

Ford didn’t like her.

Stan was goofing off with Soos on the stage. Soos was a decent DJ and the two were hamming it up to an old 80’s song Mabel had requested. Stan was a great dancer and a passable singer. He had everyone applauding and laughing with very little effort. It always baffled how easily Stan managed to do that. He could spin a tale that had people eager to listen, no matter how absurd the story was. He could think up jokes in an instant and was quick to come up insults whenever someone picked on someone in Stan’s circle.

It amazed him how confident his brother always was with those things. Ford didn’t get social situations typically. He was too blunt or quiet. He had very little in-between. He far preferred hanging with Stan or reading. He always found his mind freezing whenever he was with other people. He couldn’t think of conversations and just felt self-conscious of his appearance. Even now he found himself tugging at this sleeves and wishing they were just a little longer.

Stan finished his song with a failed attempt at a backflip. He turned it into an air guitar solo and then strolled off the stage to applause. He jogged over to where Ford was standing and beamed at him.

“What’s up, Sixer? Heard anything about the treasure, yet?” Ford shook his head and Stan shrugged. “Aw well, we’ll still get it.”

“Okay, is everyone ready?” Graunty Mabel had ascended to the stage and had the mic. “In honor of my favorite Grand Nephews birthdays, I’ve hidden a pile of treasure somewhere on my land. That means somewhere in these three square miles,” She motioned to the land surrounding them, “is a chest of treasure.” There was a cheer from the town kids. “However, this isn’t your typical treasure hunt. To earn the key to the treasure, you’ll have to win.” She stepped to the side and lifted up a lid to a chest they had on the stage. She grabbed an item out and stood up. It was a paintball gun.

“There are two basic rules. Do not break my windows, do not hurt each other. If you are proved to have intentionally injured another player you are disqualified.” She waited a beat and smiled. “There will be two teams. Stanley and Stanford are the captain of Team A. Team B’s captain is,” she reached into a top hat with all the guests’ names in it and drew one out. “Preston Northwest.”

A snooty looking kid in a polo and slacks went up to the front. He bowed dramatically and sent Graunty Mabel a bored smile. “You might as well hand the treasure to me now.”

“Ha, I like the gumption.” Mabel laughed though Ford thought she looked annoyed. “Now I’m going to give you five minutes to pick the teams. Stan and Ford get the first pick.”

“Soos!” Stan called at the same time Ford called “Fiddleford!” There was an awkward beat where they both looked at each other.

“Fiddleford? Why him?” Stan whispered. Ford frowned and felt his traitorous cheeks flushing.

“Because he’s really smart.”

“What? Have you seen Soos? He’s always got the laser tag wristband on. He’s basically a member there.”

“I just think Fiddleford is the better option.” Ford said hurriedly. Stan frowned and narrowed his eyes at Ford. His blush got hotter.

“Wait-“

“Soos. We’re picking Soos!” Ford called out loudly and a little desperately. Stan was not phased for even a minute. Preston picked a kid named Priscilla. Ford twitched under his brother’s piercing gaze.

“Go ahead, Sixer. Pick Fidds.”

“Shut up!” He snapped back. Stan was still not phased. He cheerfully turned to the crowd.

“Fidds, join our team!”

Soos reached them at this point and gave Stan and Ford fist bumps. “Alright dudes!”

Preston picked Wendy, which felt like a dirty move. Wendy scowled as she crossed to his team. He whispered something to her that made her glare even harder. Hmm. Something was going on there. It was almost enough to distract him from the fact that Fiddleford was walking towards him.

“Uh, Susan?” Stan called out. Susan Wentworth walked towards them with a smile. She had on a pink sundress and had her poofy hair pulled back with a yellow bandana. Ford hadn’t seen her before but he’d heard Stan talk about her a few times. She looked like the girls Stan typically hit on. Brown haired and cheerful.

Fiddleford reached their group and held his hand up in front of Stan. Stan high fived him and then he offered his hand to Ford. He brought his hand up to meet the high six and then felt a flash of shame at his freakish hand. Stan, who was somehow still watching him, seemed to notice his embarrassment. He squinted and frowned at Ford in confusion.

They ended up with Gorney, Thompson, and a girl named Melody that none of them had met before. 

Preston got Billy, Nate, Robbie, Emma-May, Deuce, and Lee. The other teenagers and adults didn’t particularly want to play.

“Alright! Captains, please join me up here.” Stan and Ford went towards the stage. Preston joined them. He eyed both Pines with distaste. His gaze lingered on Ford’s hands for a beat too long. He could feel Stan getting irritated at his side.

“Hmm,” Preston murmured quietly. “I see being a bit freakish runs in the family.” He glanced back at their team. “And the team as well.”

“Why you-“ Stan started. Ford shoved him up the steps with an angry feeling in his stomach that twisted with the shame and embarrassment already there. He couldn’t let Stan get in this fight. Preston was rich and they were at a party.

“Not now.” He insisted quietly. They went up to their Graunty who looked suspicious. Preston just grinned cockily.

“Grenda, mind passing out those paintball guns and ammo to go with it?” She directed her attention to the twins and Preston. She smiled at the twins. “Alright. You will each have ten minutes to set up your camp before you can attack or be attacked.” She passed them each an envelope. “Here’s your piece of the key.” She straightened up and clapped her hands. “Go!”

Stan jumped off the edge of the stage in one smooth move. He then turned towards the stairs and gave it a kick that shook them as Preston ran down. He stumbled and almost fell flat on his face.

“By the way,” Stan growled at him, “Piss bucket, don’t ever insult my brother again.”

Ford slipped off the stage a bit more clumsily. Preston was glaring at Stan like he was something gross stuck to the bottom of a shoe. Stan waited just long enough for Ford to reach him before he was booking it to their team. Ford followed him with a strange mix of emotions. He was excited for the game, embarrassed about his stupid hand and happy that Stan had nearly tripped the jerk. 

Fiddleford was waiting with the rest of the group. He had two guns, one of which he tossed to Ford. He passed him an extra round of ammo as well. Ford tried to keep his hand from shaking as he took it.

Soos gave Stan his gun and ammo. “What’s the plan, dude?” He asked.

“To win!” Stan declared. Ford blinked at his brother and shook his head.

“Who is a good shot?” Ford asked. Soos instantly raised his hand along with Melody. They smiled at each other. Melody had braces on. “I say we have them climb the trees. Take sniping positions.” Stan nodded his head in approval. Stan passed the envelope Graunty Mabel had given them to Ford.

“You take this, Poindexter. I can hold our fort down. Who do we want to be our offense?”

Fiddleford smiled and raised his hand. “I don’t mind. I’m good at being quiet.” 

“Great!” Stan said with a fist pump. “I got an idea. Ford, you go with him. They won’t expect us to send our key out. They’ll expect us to keep it guarded here. Gordey, Thompson, Susan and me can keep this place safe. Soos and Melody can sneak through the trees and give you cover when you go for their key.”

“Sounds good.” Ford said a little too loudly. The others nodded and gave their approval.

“Now they’ve got Wendy, which means they’ve got a big advantage on hiding in the forest. So watch your step.” Stan said seriously. He tapped Ford on the shoulder. “Ford and I are going to get a few waters. Everyone get ready to put the plan in action.” He stepped to the right and tugged Ford with him.

Ford smiled sheepishly and followed Stan. They made it all of twenty feet before Stan was leaning over.

“What,” he asked emphatically, “is going on with you?”

“Nothing.” Ford promptly denied. He swallowed and kept his hands stuffed in his jacket.

“Liar.” Stan chided with a forgiving smile. “You’ve stuttered like, three times. You also keep blushing or something. It’s hot, but not that hot and you’re always wearing jeans and a jacket without blushing.”

“Stan, can you drop it?”

“Nope. We’re about to go to war. I need to know my soldier can focus.”

“It’s nothing. Just the heat. I uh.” He made a hasty, mildly desperate decision. “I have an idea to help us beat Preston.”

* * *

They made it through the first attack with only one casualty. Thompson had shot well, but he wasn’t quick enough to avoid Nate’s paint ball. He did take out Deuce. Stan knocked out Billy and Susan very nearly hit Priscilla. It seemed to be personal to her. Stan was mildly curious what her vendetta might be but he didn’t want to ask. It likely wouldn’t be a happy story and he didn’t want to make Susan sad.

It had been at least ten minutes since the game had started. The last attack had been a few minutes prior. He could hear someone moving through the woods now. He ducked down and hid behind his bush. He could hear Gordey doing the same a few feet away. He raised his gun and got ready to shoot. Susan fired a second before he did and he heard Priscilla give a startled yelp. Susan laughed as the rich girl stood up. There was a bright yellow splotch on her expensive green dress.

Unfortunately, Susan gave away her spot. Robbie laughed loudly and obnoxiously as he pinned her with paint ball fire. She yelped as three different paint balls hit her.

Stan fired at Robbie in retaliation. It gave his own spot away but he was fine with that. He sprang out of the bush and shot ten balls out in a wide spread as he ran to the bush beside Susan. He pinged Robbie in the chest. He heard another grunt but didn’t look.

Susan had taken a paintball to the face. Her eye was swelling as he looked at her.

“Medic!” Stan called out. Gordey covered for him while he ran with Susan to the safety of the Mystery Shack. 

* * *

Fiddleford was brilliant. There was no two ways about it. He rigged his gun to do rapid fire and rigged Ford’s to shoot two balls at once. He tweaked Melody and Soos’ guns so that their range could increase. And he did it all while they were walking through the forest.

Ford led the way through the forest. They could hear the camp ahead of them. Preston’s obnoxious voice could probably be heard a mile away.

“Alright, the plan is to attack from the front and left while we sneak in the back. Right?” Fiddleford knelt down and asked.

“It’s not a great plan.” They heard Wendy’s voice above and Ford nearly yelped. He jumped instead and stepped back. She was grinning in the tree top.

“I’m not saying it wouldn’t work. I’m just saying that the right side only has one guard.” She shrugged from her tree perch. “He wanted me to shoot you if I saw you coming. But,” She reached for her gun which was on a branch a foot from her, “I can’t quite seem to reach my gun.” She winked at Ford and motioned for them to continue.

Soos and Melody climbed the nearby trees and started to shoot up the camp. Preston came running out with his gun and shot randomly at the trees. Ford and Fiddleford snuck around to the right where, sure enough, only one guard was watching. Unfortunately, it was Emma-May.

Ford raised his gun and side eyed Fiddleford. He was watching Emma with a small grin.

“Go ahead,” He nodded towards her. “She won’t mind. She doesn’t like the Northwest’s any more than the rest of us.”

Ford shot her. She looked down at the purple splotch on her dress and laughed. 

* * *

Stan had to hand it to Ford. He was brilliant. The attackers didn’t even notice that there were two of him. He could escort Susan back to the shack and take down Nate when he tried a sneak attack. They just assumed Stan 2 was Ford.

Stan 2 came back a moment later and winked at Stan. He ducked behind a bush and crawled for cover.

“Stan!” He heard Ford’s call a few feet away. He looked over to see Ford 2 sneaking over with their map. “He got it.”

“Great! How far out?”

“About fifty feet. Preston fled from his camp. Wendy turned on them.”

Stan laughed. That’s what happened when you were a jerk. People didn’t stick with you.

“Okay, hand me that envelope.”

Ford 2 passed him the envelope. He heard Stan 2 climbing the tree beside him. He needed to get out of sight before the real Ford appeared. Ford 2 was staring at Stan expectantly. Just like Sixer. He wasn’t going to hide until he knew what was in the envelope. Stan opened it up and peered inside. It wasn’t a key. It was a bunch of letters that didn’t make sense.

_ gjmnsi ymj xyflj, zsijw ymj xjhtsi wthp. _

“What is this?”

Ford 2 dropped to the ground and rolled behind Stan. He looked up to see Fiddleford and the actual Ford returning. Ford had an envelope in his hand and looked thrilled.

“We got it!”

“Great, ‘cause this isn’t a key.” He flipped the paper around to show Ford. Ford stared at it for a second before ripping open the second envelope.

“It’s a Ceasar Cipher. This paper says 5.” He grabbed a pen out of his pocket and started scribbling on the paper.

“A Ceasar Cipher? I haven’t worked with those in years.” Fidd’s said fondly.

“Graunty Mabel must have noticed the books you were renting.” Stan laughed. Ford didn’t look like he heard either of them. He was code cracking.

“The first word is ‘Behind.’” A moment or two passed before Ford continued. “Second word is ‘the’, third is ‘stage.’”

“Behind the stage?” Stan asked. He was already standing. Ford nodded. He jogged towards the stage where Graunty Mabel was hanging with Grenda and Candy.

“Under the second rock!” Ford called out. Stan nodded and looked. There were two rocks. He wasn’t sure what qualified the second one. He shrugged and grabbed the further one. He hauled it aside and saw a chest under it.

“HEY!” Preston came running out of the forest with a shout. He had a red splotch on his chest. “You cheated!”

“Oh yeah?” Stan asked with a grin. He hefted the chest out of the ground. Ford and Fiddleford had reached him by now. The rest of their team was coming as well. “Prove it.”

Preston stopped a few feet from him and glowered.

“You freaks. I’ll get you back for this!” The minute he said the word ‘freak’ Stan was raising his gun. He shot him at the same time as three others, though he wasn’t sure who they were.

“Get lost, Preston.” Stan ordered. He tapped the side of his gun. “If ya don’t, we’ll see how many rounds we all got left.”

Preston backed up a step and glowered. “You’ll pay for this!” He ran off and Stan watched him go with a frown. He wish he’d shot him another time.

“So what’s the treasure, dude?” Soos asked. Stan looked down at the chest and smiled. He lifted the lid and gasped. They were coins. At least two hundred chocolate coins. Though there were a few real coins in there as well. They were from different countries. Some Stan had never even seen before.

“Coins!” His team crowded around him to see their winnings.

* * *

They had eaten their cake and opened their last presents. Mabel declared that they would clean the mess up tomorrow. So now they were checking out their birthday loot while getting ready for bed.

“Wait,” Ford said suddenly as he put his chemistry set aside. “Our copies, what happened to them?”

Stan’s mouth popped open in shock. He looked out the window to the tree they’d used as their base. There was no evidence of their copies.

“Well,” Stan said, “I hope that doesn’t come back to bite us in the butt.”

Ford shrugged. “They’re us, right? I wouldn’t hurt myself. At least, I don’t think I would.” He furrowed his brow and Stan almost laughed. His brother was a dork and Stan loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't freak, people, the inconveniencing will be covered. It's one of my fave episodes but I think it'll fit better later on. I'm placing this story in 2012 and in July of 2012 there was a friday the13th. What better time to go ghost hunting?
> 
> Can we all agree that Ford clearly has body image issues? You literally never see him in anything less than full dress. Usually a long sleeved shirt, a jacket, full pants, and close toed shoes. Stan spends at least half the show in his underwear because it's hot in the summer. We see the same thing through their entire childhood. Every flashback has Ford fully covered and Stan in normal wear. Short sleeves, shorts, occasional jeans. I just think that Ford doesn't like the way he looks. His hand probably wasn't the only thing about himself he disliked when he looked in the mirror. Anyway that's what I think and the way I'm writing it.


	6. Dipper Vs Manliness: There's like what? Six heads?

“Come on you two.” Mabel had her car keys in her hand and didn’t seem to care that the boys were in an intense game of Mario kart. Ford was winning for once.

“Where we goin’?” Stan asked without taking his eyes off the game. Mabel shook her keys again to get their attention. Ford popped Stan’s last balloon and let out a triumphant hoot.

“We are going out for lunch. I’m hungry and tired. I’m not making food.”

“Can we go to Greasy’s?” Stan asked before Ford could get a word in.

“Sure.” Mabel shrugged uncaringly. Ford raised his eyebrow and Stan blushed. Mabel didn’t notice.

They climbed into the old bug. Ford was faster than Stan so he got shot gun. Stan spent the trip kicking the back of his chair. They arrived at Greasy’s and Ford took a moment to look at the place. He hadn’t been in it yet. Stan had been once or twice.

They took a booth together. Mabel sat on one side while Ford and Stan sat on the other. Ford got the seat closer to the window. They barely sat down before was standing with an excited squeal. She ran right back outside. Ford watched her go and saw that Candy was standing outside the diner. Mabel embraced her and the two started talking animatedly. 

“Hey guys!” Ford’s attention was quite suddenly entirely focused on the speaker. Fiddleford McGucket was standing next to their table with his hands in his pocket. He was wearing a lab coat with a protractor in his pocket. He had a smudge of grease on his nose and was giving them a toothy smile. Ford’s heart rate promptly tripled. 

“Hey,” Stan replied with an easy smile and a high five. 

“Greetings.” Ford said, a little too loudly. He flushed and clenched his jacket under the table. Fidd’s didn’t seem to notice. He just smiled more broadly and switched his hand from a high five to the Vulcan Salute. Ford had mentioned his fondness for Star Trek while they were traversing through the woods on his birthday. He couldn’t believe Fidd’s remembered. He attempted to mimic the salute and felt himself flush at how awkward his hand looked doing it. Too many fingers. 

“What you two up to today?” Fidd’s asked with a thick drawl. 

“Nothin’ much. Graunty Mabel came for food and then abandoned us for Candy.” Stan motioned towards the window with an easy grin. Ford couldn’t figure how to smile naturally. He was horribly aware of his body and even felt like he was sitting bizarrely. “Whatcha got planned?”

Fiddleford laughed and shook his head. He glanced over his shoulder as though he wanted to see if anyone was listening. He then leaned down a little closer. “I’mma workin’ on a device to detect ghost.” 

Ford’s mouth popped open. Stan gasped and sat up straighter. 

“That’s so cool!” His brother motioned around. “Are there a lotta ghost in Gravity Falls?”

“I’m, uh, not sure.” Fidd’s smiled sheepishly. “There are a few well known haunted places. I’m more interested in the ability of detecting anomalies that aren’t known.” He shrugged. “I’ve only been working on it for a week.” He paused and grinned goofily. “But I don’t really know what I’m booooing.” 

Stan snorted a laugh. Ford laughed far too loudly and too long. Stan gave him a weird look but thankfully Fidd’s didn’t seem to notice. He smiled back at Ford and dipped his head. 

“Well, I won’t keep you two any longer. I gotta get my lunch and then get back to work. Your Graunty has me repairing the golf cart. I think I’m gonna boost it’s speed this time.” Stan nodded but he was no longer looking at Fidd’s. He was looking at Ford. Ford smiled, too largely.

“Okay, bye!” It. Was. Still. Too. Loud. Fidd’s waved goodbye and went back to the counter. He had a plate of pancakes he was eating. He climbed up on the stool easily and Ford couldn’t help but admire how confidently Fidd’s moved.

“Oh!” Stan said really loudly. He promptly blushed and put his hand over his mouth as everyone nearby looked at him. Ford’s heart started to pound as he locked eyes with his twin. Realization had lit his brother’s face up.  _ Stan knew. _

Stan waved everyone off. “Never mind me!” He said with a sheepish smile. “Just, er, never mind.” He was stared at for another moment but they moved on. Stan waited just long enough for Fiddleford to go back to his pancakes.

“That’s what’s goin’ on!” Stan whispered. Ford instantly waved his hands in a signal for Stan to stop. He glanced over at Fiddleford who wasn’t looking at them.

“Stop talking.” Graunty Mabel would be back any minute and he was  _ not _ having this conversation.

“You like Fidd’s!”

It was out. Ford exhaled shakily and promptly dropped his hands under the table. He felt like he was going to vomit. Stan had been freaked out by Bud’s advances. How was he going to feel about Ford? He knew their pa would freak. He’d regularly heard him use cruel names for gay men.

“Hey,” Stan twisted on the booth they were sharing so he was facing Ford. He put his arm on his shoulder and squeezed it. “What gives? You okay? Do we need to leave?” Ford tried to inhale but couldn’t.

Stan glanced around discreetly and didn’t see anyone looking. He climbed off the booth and dragged Ford out with him. Ford couldn’t make any resistance. A panic attack was coming on fast. Stan somehow got him to the bathroom. He leaned him against the wall which Ford promptly slipped down on so he was sitting on the floor. Stan locked the door and knelt next to him.

“Hey buddy, give me your hand.” He gently pried Ford’s hand from his pocket and held onto it. “You’re safe here. I’m gonna stay right here with you.” He squeezed Ford’s hand reassuringly and kept talking. Ford tried to focus on the words and not the panic pressing all around him. It was crushing his chest and blocking all his air. He was shaking and couldn’t make sense of his thoughts. His brother  _ knew. _ Stan knew his crush and would be disgusted. He’d leave Ford and –

“Listen to me, Sixer. I’m here. You’re safe.” Stan pressed against Ford’s side and wrapped his arm around Ford’s shoulders. “I’m not sure what brought this on but I’ll start ticking things off the list. If ya can manage it, shake your head when I’m wrong.”

Ford gave his head a sharp nod. He needed to get this over with. He just couldn’t talk. He was shaking so hard. Stan at his side was the only thing grounding him. They’d been through numerous panic attacks together. This was hardly Ford’s first.

“Greasy’s is too full?” He shook his head no. “Mabel left?” Ford shook his head. “The Sheriff?” Ford shook his head. “Fidd’s?” Ford got half way through a nod and wished he hadn’t. He shut his eyes tight.

“Okay. Fiddleford. Is it that he’s dating Emma-May?”

He shook his head.

“Is it that ya like him?” He nodded his head. “What about that? You’ve had a crush before, right?” He nodded his head. “Though, not at school. Is it your first real life, currently living, crush?” He nodded his head. “Would ya like to wait until he leaves?” He shook his head.

Stan paused for a moment and Ford started to shake harder. Finally, in a small voice, Stan asked: “Is it me?”

Ford froze. He couldn’t nod. He couldn’t open his eyes.

“Oh.” Stan’s voice got softer and sadder. “Why?”

“Bud.” Ford managed. He kept his eyes clenched shut. He heard Stan mouth the name a few times.

“Sorry, I don’t get it. Bud was a freak. What’s he got to do with you? I’m not even sure Bud was actually gay or if he was just obsessed. I mean, the letters make him seem obsessed.”

“Letters?” He cracked a startled eye open to look at Stan. His brother shrugged.

“Yeah. He keeps sending me letters under different names. I’ve gotten rid of them when I realize they’re him.” He shook his head and wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Anyway. What’s he got to do with Fidd’s, you, and me?”

Stan didn’t seem upset. He didn’t seem angry. He seemed worried and confused. Ford swallowed thickly and squeezed the hand Stan had. He could do this. He had to.

“Stan, I’m gay.”

There was a beat of silence and then Stan said, “I know. Go on.”

“What?” He looked over to see his brother raising an eyebrow.

“Bro, I’ve known since Tennant. Took me a while to get what was goin’ on but I got there.” He smiled proudly. It dropped after a moment and the confusion came back. “Wait, did ya think I didn’t? Did ya think I’d care or something?”

“I thought you’d- after Bud-“

Stan cut him off. “Bud’s a freak. Being gay has nothing to do with that. He might use it as an excuse. But, no. He’s straight up crazy.” He smiled but it was sad now. “I wouldn’t be mad at you.”

“I didn’t want you to hate me.” Ford said quietly. He felt ridiculous now. Stan looked shocked.

“Hate you? I’m fairly sure you couldn’t do anything that would make me hate you.”

There was a sudden knock on the door that made both boys jump.

“Hey!” Stan shouted. “This room is occupied! Go away!” He waited a moment before looking back at Ford. Ford was sitting straight now. He wasn’t shaking anymore. He was breathing again. A little unsteadily, but he was breathing. 

“Was it because of pa?” Stan asked abruptly. Ford twitched and nodded his head. Oh god. Their pa would hate this. “Does he know?”

Ford frantically shook his head. Just thinking about it made it harder to breathe.

“Pa is a jerk. He doesn’t need to know anything.” Stan shrugged. “We’ll get out. It’s only a few more years now. Right?”

Ford nodded. He stared at Stan and couldn’t believe what he saw. His brother had known all along and was going to keep quiet. He didn’t hate Ford. He didn’t think it was weird at all.

“Five more years and we can sail away from that dump. We can find treasure, babes, and hunks.” He smiled dreamily. “We’ll never have to go back.”

Never have to go back… That was something to dream about.

* * *

Stan got him back to the booth a few minutes later. They were both laughing and joking by the time Mabel returned from whatever she had been chatting with Candy about. She sat across from them and smiled.

“So what are we having?”

“Pancakes!” Stan and Ford shouted together. Mabel nodded her head and reached into her pocket. She froze and her eyes widened.

“Oh no, I didn’t bring my wallet.” She covered her face with her hands in embarrassment. Ford didn’t have his wallet with him either. His eyes looked around to see if anyone had noticed their mildly dire straits when he saw a sign at the back of the diner. It was hung over a strange looking game. It had the upper half of a strong man holding up a sign that read ‘Test Your Manliness.’ It had a stick that you would push to determine your Manliness level.

The important part was the sign beside it that said ‘Free Pancakes on Winning.”

Problem solved.

“Don’t worry, Graunty Mabel.” Ford said with a cheerful smile. “I’m going to win us some.”

“Huh?”

Ford smiled and hopped off the booth. He made his way towards the machine and looked at it. It was some sort of join stick with another lever attached. He reached his hand around it, which didn’t fit particularly well, and squeezed them together. The machine started to light up with the different levels. He squeezed it as tightly as he could and closed his eyes. His grip broke and he looked up to see the lights going out. The machine bonked and spit out a piece of paper. He picked it up to see a picture of a baby on it and the words ‘You are a Cutie Patottie.’ He flushed and promptly crumpled it up.

“You’re doing it wrong.” He jumped and turned to see Stan standing beside him. His brother was staring at the game. “Here,” He stepped around Ford, “let me show ya.” He grabbed hold of the lever and stick and Ford’s eyes shot up to see the levels lighting up much faster. It reached the top level and all the lights went off. Cheers sounded around them and Ford felt his cheeks get even hotter.

“Way to go!” Fiddleford, who had been sitting at the bar, stood up. He came over to Stan and held his hand up for a high five. Stan gave it to him with a broad smile.

“Free pancakes, huh?” Susan asked from behind the counter. She had a platter of pancakes in her hand and a cheerful smile. Stan flushed and nodded his head.

“Yep!” His voice cracked and his eyes widened. Susan smiled right back and walked over to their booth. Fiddleford winked at Stan before going back to his seat. Ford watched Stan walk back to their booth.

Whatever it took, he was going to get stronger.

* * *

Stan slipped into the booth across from his Graunty and smiled as Susan set the platter of pancakes down. She was wearing her pink uniform and had her brown hair braided back. She was all smiley and bright and entirely distracting.

“Here’s your food.” Susan directed her smile at him and his brain kind of blanked.

“Uh, Thanks there, surgar pot.” He felt his eyes widen in horror at what had just come out of his mouth. “I-I mean, I mean, uh, honey wasp.” Nope. That was somehow worse. “Kitten baby.” Agh! “b-baby cow.”

Oh god. Someone please kill him.

Susan gave a delighted little laugh and shook her head. “Your silly, Stan.” She walked back towards the kitchen. Stan watched her go with a pounding heart. What was wrong with him? What had he even said?

“What was that about?” Graunty Mabel asked. Stan’s eyes snapped towards her. She was watching Susan walk away too.

“Nothing. I don’t wanna talk about it. Talk about what? Pancakes.” He grabbed a few off the platter and desperately took a bite of it. Mabel turned her eyes back on him and blinked.

“Wait just a second,” she murmured, “I think I have an idea happening here. You…”

“No!” he spluttered and nearly choked on his pancake.

“And her…” Mabel continued.

“Stop-“ Stan coughed and had to reach for his water. He was going to die on this pancake.

Mabel looked at him with sparkling eyes. “Ahh!” She squealed. Stan’s eyes shot around but no one was looking. At least no one he could see through his watery eyes. “You have a thing for Susan!” Graunty Mabel poked him with her finger. Stan swallowed and, having not died on pancake but now being in danger of dying of embarrassment, waved his hands at her.

“Shh! Keep it down, will ya?”

Mabel just beamed. She didn’t look even mildly ashamed. Dang it.

“Alright, I admit it, okay? It would be nice if she liked me. But I don’t know where to start. I mean,” his eyes darted over to where Susan was passing out pies. She knocked over a cup of milk that fell on herself. “She’s so classy.”

“Stan,” he looked back at Mabel to see her leaning towards him. “you are a sweaty, dirty, thirteen year old.” He frowned and looked down at himself. He had worn this yesterday. And possibly the day before… “But,” Mabel poked his nose, “we will get Susan to go on a date with you because nothing is stronger than the power of-“

“Love?” he felt his eyebrow raise. It seemed a little corny even for his Graunty. Mabel shook her head emphatically.

“Mabel.” She lifted a pancake. “To victory!” and she took a large bite. Stan’s gaze turned back towards Susan. She was laughing at something Fiddleford said. He had no idea what his Graunty had in mind but… It was worth a shot.

* * *

Ford wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up outside. He’d meant to join his family at the booth but he just… couldn’t. 

It didn’t quite seem fair. He was supposed to be the smart one. How had Stan known the way to operate the game? Had he even done anything differently? Ford hadn’t looked. He’d been too busy staring at the lights. It wouldn’t have mattered either way. Stan was stronger. Ford was a wimp. Stan had him beat on almost every manliness level. His voice had dropped first, he got chest hair, and he was stronger, and quicker. He was more gifted with every outdoor activity they tried. He didn’t struggle with his emotions the same way Ford did. Stan just shrugged off the mean words that were dumped on them.

Stan was everything Ford wasn’t. It was Stan that won the pancakes for them. Fiddleford had high fived him, not Ford. Ford had just stood in the corner.

He was so tired of just standing in the corner. He wanted to be a hero like Stan. He wanted to make history and do brilliant things. He wanted to matter, and, if he was honest, prove he wasn’t a freak.

He’d wandered a few yard from the diner and found himself being hit in the face with water. He spluttered and stepped back to see a busted fire hydrant. Blubs and Durland, the Sheriff and Deputy were staring at it.

“Another hydrant?” Blubs asked with a frown. Ford ignored what they were saying and moved away from the hydrant’s spray. He went towards the woods that lined the town. He wanted to walk where others couldn’t see him.

He moved around the trees with a morose feeling. He finally came to a stop in front of a sturdy tree and sat down. He looked around at his surroundings and saw a large branch. He reached for it and found it was heavier than it appeared.

When he wished to learn something, he would study it. Why should strength be any different? He would spend his free time lifting to strengthen his body.

He made it through three reps. He’d watched Stan do so many more than that just for boxing practice. Heck, he’d seen him do more than that just to warm up for boxing practice. And his brother didn’t even struggle with it. He just did it.

“I don’t get it.” He said to himself. “We’re twins. We should be the same biologically. How is he so much stronger? Is it a mental thing?”

He picked the branch up again and promptly dropped it as three deer came dashing past him. He jumped up and backed into the tree. The ground was starting to rumble like something big was coming towards him.

“For the love of all that's holy, RUN!” Manly Dan, Wendy’s dad, came barreling through the forest. He had his hefty axe thrown over his shoulder. He didn’t wait to see if Ford followed his instructions. He just kept running. Ford, terror gripping at his throat, turned towards the approaching thing. Birds shot into the sky with warning squawks. The trees shook and then he saw it. It was at least ten feet tall and hairy. Its stocky frame was bulging with muscles. He thought it was a bear but its chest was almost humanoid in shape. Its head looked like a bull. It had bovine legs with hooves, and it was standing up right.

“I can't believe it,” he breathed out, his eyes going wide. “You’re part animal, part human. Are you some kind of Minotaur?”

“I'm a manotaur! Half man! Half...uh...half taur!”

“Taur just means bull.” Ford said for lack of anything else to say. He reached into his pocket to pull out his notebook and pencil. He quickly wrote ‘Manotaur’ in it. The giant creature sniffed the air and turned his gaze on Ford. His nostrils flared and he leaned down towards Ford with a deep inhale.

Ford’s fingers froze over the page. His heart rate tripled.

“I smell emotional issues.” The Manotaur declared. Ford exhaled a shaky laugh.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I got issues, Manotaur. Man-related issues.”

The Manotaur sat down on a tree he had knocked over. He patted the spot beside himself and motioned for Ford to come over. He did and only struggled a little to climb on the tree. The manotaur then gave him an expectant look.

He was not about to tell this ‘Manotuar’ everything that was bothering him. He could start with the obvious.

“I failed this manliness game. My twin beat it and won the praise of someone I like.” The manotaur hummed in understanding. An idea suddenly hit Ford. He could get a tutor, and there was a perfect manliness tutor beside him. “Hey, you could, um, you seem manly. Perhaps you could teach me?”

The manotaur slapped his massive thighs and nodded his head.

“Very well! Climb atop my back hair, child!”

That sounded disgusting but he didn’t have a lot of other options. “Okay.” He promptly found himself holding on for dear life. The manotaur hurled himself through the trees without care for physical injury. He vaulted over a gorge and then, much to Ford’s horror, rammed into the side of a mountain. He burst through it and into a brightly lit cavern. Ford slipped off the manotaur’s back and staggered a little. The room was hazy and smelt like pipe smoke. There were manotaurs everywhere. Some were playing a game of pool, some foosball, some darts, and some cards. A few were wrestling or pounding punching bags. There were snack foods and alcohol on different tables and one manotaur was passed out on the floor.

The manotaur he’d come with looked around proudly.

“The gnomes live in the trees, the merpeople live in the water, 'Cause they're losers! But we Manotaurs, crash in the MAN CAVE!” He hit a gong with his fist. “BEASTS! I have brought you, a hairless child!”

He was shoved forward by the manotaur. He tripped and very nearly fell.

“Greetings.” He gave a nervous little wave.

The manotaur that brought him didn’t seem to notice. He started to point towards other manotaurs. “This is Pubetor, Testoteror, Pituitor, and I’m Chutzpar. You are?”

“My name’s Ford.” His voice cracked on the word and the Manotaurs around him booed. “The, uh, Dissector?”

Chutzpar nodded in approval. “Ford the Dissector wants us to help him be a man.” The other mantotaurs stared at him and he felt extremely uncomfortable suddenly. He shoved his hands in his pocket and tried to look small.

They gathered together in a small circle and started debating whether or not it was possible to teach him their secrets. A moment later they were throwing punches at each other. Ford’s mouth popped open and he found himself taking a few steps back. They looked like the bullies at home. Anytime they got frustrated at each other it’d devolve into a punching match. That went on for at least five minutes before the manotaurs finally started talking to each other again.

Chutzpar turned to him. “After a lot of punching, we have decided to deny your request.”

Ford’s heart sank to his stomach. That had been his only hope. Apparently he was hopeless. Unless…

“Ok. Fine. I mean, obviously the challenge of training me would be too difficult for all of you. I imagine you’re not man enough to even try.” He shrugged and shook his head. It worked almost immediately. The manotaurs all started speaking over each other. Some were repeating his accusation in disbelieving tones. Chutzpar was trying to calm them down. Ford decided to press his advantage.

“It would appear that you’re too scared to teach me how to be a man. It’s too daunting a task for you.” He paused and tilted his head. “Wait, do you hear that? It sounds like,” He bocked a few times quietly. “Hmm, that’s strange,” he bocked a little louder. “Is that, BACAWK! That sound like, BACAW! Yep, a bunch of chickens!”

The minotaurs nearest him looked at each other uncomfortably. One murmured something about brain magic. Chutzpar stepped forward.

“Ford the Dissector, we have decided to help you become a man!”

Ford grinned. That typically worked on Stan as well.

* * *

Stan had somehow wound back up at the Mystery Shack with Graunty Mabel. Ford was nowhere to be seen but Graunty Mabel didn’t seem to notice. She was in ‘the romance zone.’ According to herself. He was a little worried for his brother but knew Ford was smart enough to get out of most any trouble.

Unless it was something to do with Bud… But they’d destroyed the amulet so that wasn’t going to be a problem. Yeah. Ford would be safe.

“Okay!” Mabel said with a happy hum. She dropped a massive scrapbook on the table and wrapped her arm around Stan’s shoulders. A moment later she was taking a picture of them both. The flash blinded him and he had to blink it away. By the time he could see again Mabel was pressing the picture into the scrapbook.

“Deedly dum, memories!” She declared. Stan looked over and found his mouth popping open in shock. There were other pictures of him and Ford already in the scrapbook. He had no memory of getting his picture taken by his Great Aunt. She hummed to herself while she wrote in a purple marker on the page.  _ Preparing for that first date! _

“Gee,” he said, “How many pictures have you got in here?”

She locked eyes with him. “I _ never _ miss a scrapbookertunity.”

He laughed and raised his hands in defeat. “I didn’t meant to challenge ya.” He lifted one of the pages and saw a picture of them fighting the Gobblewonker. “Hey, how’d you get-“

Mabel shut the scrapbook. “Nuh-uh. No questions. It’s time for your first lesson.” He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.

“’Kay. What is it?” Mabel grinned mischievously and turned over her head.

“Wendy, mind coming in here?” Stan promptly blushed and hopped off the chair.

“Graunty, no!” He pleaded. “You’re gonna embarrass me!”

“Hopefully.” Mabel replied cheerfully. “Don’t worry. I won’t judge you.” Wendy strolled into the room with a mildly bored expression. She smiled at Stan.

“What’s up Stan? What’cha need, Miss Pines?”

“Help. Stan here wants to ask Susan out for a date and needs some practice.” Mabel stated. Stan sat down on his chair and sank as low as he could. His face was hot and he couldn’t meet Wendy’s eyes. He dropped his head in his hands.

“Cool.” Wendy said. She went to the chair across from Stan and sat down. “Susan’s nice. Have you met her dad though? He’s huge.” Stan blanched and lifted his head to find Wendy smiling at him. “I’m just messing with you, man.”

“So, Stan, how do you approach a woman?” Mabel asked. Stan promptly blanked. He’d talked to women all the time. Lots of them. None he’d gotten a date with, but Stan was nothing if not confident. He had no problem going up to anyone and talking with someone.

Wendy stood up from the chair and went a few feet off. She pretended to be sweeping. Stan stood up as well. He walked towards her and promptly stopped. His mouth was  _ really _ dry suddenly. Like, really dry. He swallowed and found that it didn’t help at all. He looked up at Wendy who pretended to notice him suddenly.

“Hey Stan, what’s up?” Stan punched her lightly in the arm, laughed way too loud, and choked.

“Hey,” He managed after a horrible moment of coughing. His brain went completely blank again. He could hear his great aunt writing something down behind him and it freaked him out. He had to say something, anything. “Look at this cool cut!” He raised his arm as he spoke and pointed towards a scabbing slash. He was pretty sure he’d gotten it when he’d jumped out of the window after Ford and Bud.

Wendy laughed loudly while Mabel dropped her head in her hands.

Yep. This was going to be a really long day.

* * *

The rest of Ford’s day was filled with weirdness. The first test they gave him was the ‘Pain Hole’ which was as dumb as it sounded. He had to shove his fist into a hole filled with sharp rocks. Because apparently real men conquered their fears. And you could conquer your fears by deliberately hurting yourself. That led into the second part of conquering your fear. Jumping across a lake on alligator noses. He hated snakes and the beady eyes staring up at him were too close to the slithery reptile for his comfort. He’d fallen multiple times and nearly gotten bitten. The journal didn’t have any advice for alligators.

He’d then had to move on to jumping a gorge. It took him endless tries to make it across. He was exhausted by the time he finally made the leap. He landed on all fours and had panted into the ground for a moment before smiling. Stan couldn’t have done that.

By the time the ‘lessons’ were over he was sore in every inch of his body. They were chilling in a hot tub to help ease their muscles.

Glurk was poking at a disgusting and alarming growth on his face. Ford watched him with a little smile. He was tired and felt good. He felt like he’d already gotten stronger and manlier.

“You ready, Dissector?” Chutzpar asked suddenly. Ford looked over to find the manotaur studying him intently.

“For what?”

“The final task. The deadliest trial of all.”

He blinked and clenched his fist. He’d survived forty-nine other trials. He could do this. He had to. 

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

He was taken out of the tub and given a leather loin cloth to wear. He put it on, mildly concerned about where they’d gotten the leather. They then put temporary tattoos on his chest. Once they were satisfied they led him to a large room with a lot of Manotaurs. They all promptly knelt down. Ford joined them.

“Behold, our leader, Leaderaur!” He looked up to see an old, hunched manotaur walking out. He was humming to himself and looked like the least manotaurish manotaur he’d seen. He blinked in confusion and then found himself covering his mouth. A giant form came out of the mouth of the cave and devoured the old manotaur whole. He felt instantly nauseous and terrified. Would they eat him if he failed this test?

“You wish to be man?” Leaderaur asked with a deep voice. He was completely black and at least triple the size of all the other manotaurs. He realized after an awkward second that the giant monster was talking to him. He stood up stiffly and tried to summon the confidence of his brother.

“Yes!”

“Then you must heroic act, go to highest mountain,” Leaderaur paused and reached into his chest. He pushed through the fur there and reached. Into. His. Chest. He grabbed hold of something there and began to pull it out. A red, fury mass started to appear and Ford had to grit his teeth to keep from gagging. He couldn’t be sick here. It was almost guaranteed to lead to death. He just had to push the fear and emotion away.

The object turned out to be some sort of spear. He tossed it at Ford’s feet.

“You must bring back head of...the Multi-Bear!”

All the manotaurs around them gasped in shock and immediately started talking to each other. Ford frowned.

“Multi-bear? Is that a form of bear?”

“He's our sworn enemy! Conquer him and your man formation will be complete!”

“Conquer?”

“Bring back his HEAD!” Leaderaur shouted the last word and Ford jumped. He grabbed hold of the spear and stepped back. His pa had taken him hunting once. This wouldn’t be any different than that. Right?

* * *

Stan’s day wasn’t going much better. They’d had a lesson on properly smiling. A lesson on proper posture that had involved him walking around with Ford’s books on his head. He’d had to go through a tea party where he got hit with marshmallows if he broke eye contact or scratched himself. That had led to a horrible makeover. He’d tried to resist but Mabel and Wendy were far stronger than they looked. They put some sort of green gunk on his face that smelled like guacamole and then tried to put cucumbers on his eyes. He’d gotten in trouble for eating them.

Now he was putting on a suit for their final lesson. He hadn’t wanted to put it on. It looked stifling and uncomfortable now though… He was standing in front of the mirror to adjust the thin tie he had on. He liked what he saw. He looked taller and… confident? No, that wasn’t it. He looked important. Like he was a somebody. He liked it.

He shrugged and went downstairs. He didn’t have time to figure out the weird feelings. He had to attend the next lesson.

Wendy and Graunty Mabel had moved the couch to the corner of the living room. Mabel had the record player out and was putting a record on it. Wendy was rolling her sleeves up and kicking her boots off. Stan walked into the room to a wolf whistle of appreciation from Graunty Mabel. He blushed a brilliant red but… he liked the way it felt. He felt confident and cool. Wendy turned around and grinned.

“Nice!” She held her hand up for a high five that Stan gave. He wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to high five Wendy. She was the coolest person he knew and she was quite pretty.

“Okay,” Mabel clapped her hand together. “First step to dancing. The slow dance.” Stan snorted and shook his head. He’d been dancing since he was a toddler. His family was Jewish, and while his pa never danced, his ma did, and often. She’d grab whichever twin was nearer and start a random dance party in the living room. Stan was almost always the closer twin. Ford was good at ducking out of dodge.

Stan knew how to dance.

He took Wendy’s hand. It was warm where his ma’s hand was always a little cold. He grasped her waist with the other hand and waited for the music to start. Mabel put the needle down and a slow, slightly mournful tune filled the air. He’d never heard of it before but he instantly liked it. He inhaled deeply and exhaled steadily. He smiled at Wendy and led her gently in the dance. The song was singing about pale blue eyes but Wendy’s were a vibrant green.

Susan’s eyes were blue though. That thought distracted him and made him feel a little clumsy. He pushed it away forcibly and ignored the lyrics. He moved around the dance floor confidently with Wendy following him. He was reminded of sticky-hot afternoons spent dancing with his mother around their living room. She’d put her hair up and turn off the psychic sign in their window. She’d sing along with the lyrics and laugh whenever he goofed off. They were rare moments of brightness in that dark apartment. She’d pull the shades up and they weren’t afraid of making noise. It was fun and free.

Wendy was a good dancer. She moved gracefully and he had no trouble escorting her around. When the song finished he saw Mabel rubbing at her eyes. She switched the record out and a much bouncier song started. This one he recognized. Whitney Houston’s voice filled the room and Mabel clapped.

“Free style it!” She belted. Stan released Wendy and jumped up. He came down with a pop of his hip like Saturday Night Fever. His ma liked that movie a little too much.

If there was something Stan was good at, it was hamming it up. Before the first verse was over he had both of them laughing. Wendy even snorted. Mabel joined the party and they were both dancing around the room dramatically. It turned into a dance off and Stan wasn’t certain who won. His Graunty was flexible and goofy.

“Brilliant!” Mabel declared two or three songs later. She was sitting on the couch panting. Stan had ditched his jacket and was loosening his tie. “I think he just might be ready. What about you, Wendy?”

She shrugged. “I think Susan already likes him.”

Stan’s attention was promptly and fully focused on Wendy. “Say what now?”

She laughed and gave her head a little shake. Her hat, as always, stayed perfectly in place. “Dude, she hung out with you during the entire party. It was hot out. You were sweaty and covered in dirt. You smelled. She likes you.”

Stan’s mouth popped open. Susan liked him? Ha! Take that world!

“Great! Then it should be easy to ask her out.” Mabel said confidently.

Stan swallowed thickly. Yeah. Easy. Ha.

* * *

Ford had found the cave and was trying to make his way into it quietly. He’d taken longer than he should have because he’d paused to write down everything he could remember about the manotaurs. He hadn’t seen any journal entries on them so he wanted to add his own notes.

The cave was dark, dank, and smelled like mildew. His nose instantly crinkled and he had to concentrate not to gag. He could hear a strange reverberating noise inside. Like ‘hrrrggh.”

He made it a dozen or so yards inside when he saw a creature sleeping. It looked like there was a pile of four or five bears.

“Is that it?” He murmured to himself. The creature jerked awake and stood up. Ford’s mouth promptly dropped open in shock.

There were at least six heads on the enormous creature that he could see. Some were snarling, some were growling, but the one on top was staring at him with curious eyes.

“Bear heads,” the creature order, “Be quiet.” The other heads settled down. “Child,” he continued, “why have you come here?”

Ford swallowed and raised the spear. “I seek your head! Or, well… one of them at least.”

A few of the heads growled again. “This is foolish!” the main head growled the words out. “Leave now!”

Ford leveled the spear at the giant creature. He couldn’t leave now. He couldn’t back down. He had to prove that he was a man.

“So be it!” The bear dropped to all fours and charged at Ford. He rolled to the side and used the spear to throw himself up in the air as the Multi-bear passed. He jumped on its back and thrust the spear under the creature’s neck. The multi-bear reared back in shock. Ford managed to hold on with his legs and grabbed hold of the other end of the spear. He pulled it tight, choking the main head.

_ A real man shows no mercy. _

He could hear his pa in his head. His words dark and his eyes distant. His pa had fought soldiers. He hadn’t flinched. Ford wouldn’t now. He couldn’t.

Could he?

What was he doing? Why was he even trying to take one of this creature’s heads?

He realized, in a terrible moment of awareness, that he was about to kill this multi-bear. His hands instantly released the spear and he fell off the creature’s back. He landed on the ground with a hard thud and stared up at the multi-bear.

The bear was panting and rubbing at his throat. Ford’s hand self-consciously went to his own throat. He’d been choked not too long ago. How could he have done the same thing to this creature?

The bear blinked down at him.

“Why did you stop?”

Ford just stared up at him. He didn’t know the answer. He didn’t know anything.

“Who sent you to me, child?”

“The, uh, Manotaurs.”

The multi-bear frowned and its many heads drooped.

“Ah,” it sighed, “I should have known. They think I'm a freak.”

Ford’s entire body spasmed at the softly spoken word. He self-consciously clenched his hand and tried to hide them. The multi-bear noticed the action and tilted his head.

“Why do you try and hid your hands, man cub?”

He looked up at the sad brown eyes, all dozen or more of them, and sighed. He opened his hand and showed his fingers, all six of them. The multi-bear’s mouth popped open in understanding.

“I’m no stranger to that name.”

* * *

Stan walked into the diner in a clean t-shirt and shorts. His Graunty Mabel had wanted him to be wearing slacks but Wendy had nixed it. She felt people should be comfortable when doing scary things. Stan couldn't agree more.

Susan was at the back banging on the pie spinner. It was, as usual, not spinning. She had her hair pulled back in a simple ponytail and there was flour on her cheek. The swelling from the paintball hit had gone down but there was still a hint of a bruise there. Her blue eyes were bright and cheerful.

"Hiya, Stan!" She called when he came in. He waved nervously and shuffled towards her. She was focusing on the pie spinner again and didn't notice his approach.

He stopped a few feet back and swallowed thickly. His mouth was super dry again. Wendy had told him to suck a mint to help with that but he'd forgotten.

"Uh, Susan?" He asked. She turned around to face him with an easy smile. He felt his courage start to waver and knew he needed to act quickly or face defeat. "Would you, uh, like to, uh..." He trailed off as his mind started to panic. What was he going to ask her? Where were they going to go?

Oh! Pioneer day! It was in like, two days. It was perfect.

"Yes?" Susan asked and Stan was pretty sure she sounded hopeful.

"Would ya like to go to the Pioneer day Saturday?" He asked it in one breath and inhaled sharply. He felt a little dizzy.

Susan smiled brilliantly. She stepped back and turned away from Stan. He felt his entire demeanor fall along with his hope. Well. That was answered then. Wendy was wrong. Susan didn't like him. At least he could hold that over her head.

Susan turned back to him and pressed a plate of chocolate pie into his hand. She winked.

"It's on the house. I'll meet you at the Pioneer day at noon? Will that work?" He nodded his head a little dumbly. Someone called her name from the kitchen. She blushed and, with a slight giggle, said, "See you later, Stanley."

Stan stood there for far longer than he should have. He finally came back to himself and walked to the nearest booth. He slid in it and put his pie down. He glanced out the window and saw his brother walking dejectedly down the street. He banged on the window and called for him.

"Ford! Ford! Over here! I'm in the diner! Ford!" His brother finally looked over and noticed Stan. Stan waved for him to come inside. He watched as Stan made his weary way inside. Hmm. What had he been up to all day?

"Everything okay, Sixer?"

“I’d rather not talk about it.” Stan raised a disbelieving eyebrow. He gave it a moment and then Ford was talking again. “I met these half bull humanoids-“

“What?”

“Minotaurs. Err, Manotaurs.” Stan nodded his head and Ford continued. “And we were hanging out. They were showing me how to, um, be more manly.” He said that last part really quietly. Stan had trouble seeing but his ears worked great. He filed that info away for later. He wanted to know what was wrong now.

“And?” He prodded. He took a bite of the pie and nearly closed his eyes. It was fantastic. How had he not ordered pie here yet?

“But then they wanted me to do this hard and horrid thing… It wasn’t right. I said no.” He sighed and put his hands on the table. He stared at them like he didn’t know what to make of them.

“You were your own man and you stood up for yourself.” He nodded his head proudly and cut off another bite of pie. Ford’s eyes went wide.

“Huh?” Ford asked. Stan swallowed his bite.

“Well, you did what was right even when no one agreed with ya.” He shrugged. “Sounds pretty manly to me but, what do I know?”

Ford’s expression turned thoughtful for a moment before a smile slowly lifted his lips. Stan offered his fork to Ford.

“You gotta try this, Sixer.” Ford considered the pie for a moment. He shrugged and accepted it. He took a small bite and gave his head an appreciative nod.

“’s Good.”

Stan nodded and grinned. “Yep. I got it from Susan.” He tried to stifle his smile but couldn’t. Ford looked at him suspiciously and he couldn’t hold it back any longer. “And she agreed to join me,” He pointed to his own puffed out chest, “at Pioneer day Saturday!”

Ford held his hand up in the air. “That calls for a High Six.”

Stan immediately slapped his hand with his own. “High six!” He agreed triumphantly. Ford went to take another bite of the pie only to realize that at some point Stan had stolen the fork back. He laughed and Stan grinned back.

This had been a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song they were listening to was “pale blue eyes” from velvet underground. I imagine its one Dipper and Mabel might have listened to as kids in this universe. 
> 
> I'm really not happy with this chapter and I'm not sure why. Let me know your thoughts, please. What you think of the story so far, if you like it, if you hate it, if there's anything you want to see or are curious about.
> 
> Thanks!


	7. Irrational Pig: When there’s no cops around, anything’s legal!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a merging of Irrational Treasure and Time Travelers Pig. It involve more of the Time Travelers Pig though.

“Graunty, can’t ya go any faster?” Stan was practically vibrating with energy. Ford hadn’t seen him this nervous since they came to Gravity Falls. 

“I’m going the speed limit, Stan.” Mabel replied in a sing song. She glanced at them in the rear view mirror before looking forward. “Anyway, we’re here.” She parked the car and turned off the engine. Stan started to fumble with his seat belt and couldn’t quite seem to get it unbuckled. Ford freed himself without any trouble and climbed outside. It looked like most of the town was here. They were all in period dress as well. He could see a few games set up, a few booths selling food, and groups of people who were doing different types of entertainment. It was like a renaissance fair, but set in the 1800s.

Stan finally freed himself and climbed out of the car. Mabel locked the vehicle and smoothed out her dress. She was wearing a bright pink dress with a pale pink apron. She’d braided her thick, grey hair and had on a pair of spectacles instead of her customary contacts. She looked like a colorful pioneer woman.

Stan and Ford had refused to dress up. Ford wouldn’t have minded but Stan was dead set against it. 

“Where are you meeting Susan?” Mabel asked with a mischievous grin. Stan glared at her but he was trying not to smile.

“She said she’d be by the stage. Where will that be?”

Mabel pointed towards the spot where the most people were.

“You’ll be able to hear them in a minute. Opening ceremonies are at 12 on the dot. They’re never late.” She frowned a little. “Bit uncanny, really.” 

“Who does the opening ceremonies?” Ford asked. His question was answered, but not by Mabel. He heard a squeal of a microphone turning on and then he heard Preston Northwest’s voice. He shuddered.

“Howdy, everyone! You all know me, Preston Northwest, great-great grandson of town-founder, Nathaniel Northwest. I'm also very rich.” He laughed as though he’d just told the greatest joke ever. They picked their way through the crowd and came to the stage. Preston was dressed like a cowboy with gold boots. Ridiculous.

Stan wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were scanning the crowd for Susan. He perked up after a moment and waved his hand in the air. Susan Wentworth made her way towards them with a shy smile. She was wearing a long, blue dress, with a simple white apron tied over it. She’d even gone so far to put a bonnet on. 

“Hiya!” Stan said far too loudly. He promptly blushed which made Ford snort. He covered it up with a cough and averted his eyes from the glare Stan sent him. Susan reached them and clasped her hands nervously behind herself. 

“Hi, Stanley.” She smiled with a pretty blush coloring her cheeks. She blinked after a minute and looked at Ford. “Hi, Ford.”

“Hello.” He replied politely. He directed his attention back to the stage and saw Preston getting his picture taken. He so disliked that kid. He was pompous and rude and thought himself above everyone else. 

“Let the festival commence, and remember, you have Nathaniel Northwest to thank for it!” 

Nathaniel Northwest…. Nathaniel Northwest… He’d read that name somewhere. Had the journal mentioned it? He was almost certain it had. He reached into his trench coat’s pocket before stopping himself. He couldn’t very well bring it out in this place. Someone might see it.

“Hey dudes!” Soos was jogging towards them with a big grin. He had on a question mark t-shirt from the Mystery Shack and already had a turkey leg in his hands. 

“Sup, Soos?” Stan asked while holding his hand up for a high five. Soos gave it to him and bumped Ford’s fist with his own. 

“Nothing much. Can I hang with you guys?” 

Ford intervened for Stan. He knew his brother wouldn’t mind Soos hanging out but he probably wanted some time with just Susan. 

“Sure you can. I’m going to check out a few of the exhibits before we hit the games. Want to join me?” Soos nodded eagerly. 

“What is that guy doing?” Stan tugged on Ford’s sleeve and pointed to the left. Susan and he were both looking at a man standing with a small group of people and a woodpecker on his shoulder. Some sort of minister was talking to him.

Ford shrugged and the group moved closer. It wasn’t like any of them actually cared about what Preston or the rest of the opening ceremony had to say.

The man with the bird looked at the woodpecker as the minister finished his speech. “I now pronounce you man and wife.” The bird pecked his hand. Stan stopped and tilted his head in confusion.

“What ‘chu talking ‘bout?”

“Oh!” Ford said, a little too loudly. He reached for his journal but stopped himself again. “I remember reading about this. Apparently, in Gravity Falls it used to be legal to marry woodpeckers.” Soos and Susan laughed as though it were a joke. Sadly, it wasn’t.

“Oh, it’s still legal.” The man marrying the bird turned towards them slowly with a large smile. He patted the woodpeckers foot. “Very legal.” He kept his creepy grin trained on them for a moment longer and then wandered away.

Stan and Ford shared a concerned look.

“How does that even work?” Stan finally asked. Ford shook his head. Some things were better not imagined.

“Okay.” Stan shook his head to clear his thoughts and smiled broadly at Susan. “How about we get some food while those two look at the exhibits. Then we can all regroup and see what sorta games this thing has?”

“Okay.” She said with a little laugh. They wandered off together leaving Ford and Soos alone.

“Are they on a date or something?”

“Yes.” Ford answered shortly. He didn’t particularly want to talk about it. He’d been worried about this day. Dreading it, actually. He knew Stan was funny and that he had a heart of gold. He knew it wouldn’t be long till some girl realized how great Stan was and the two would start dating. He just didn’t want it to happen anytime soon. Most of the girls at Glass Shard beach didn’t give him the time of day. He tended to come off a bit jerkish and they couldn’t see through the facade. It was entirely their loss. It had gotten to the point where Ford had let his guard drop. When they’d arrived at this strange town and Stan had started talking about Susan, Ford had panicked.

He didn’t want things to change. Ford didn’t make friends. Stan didn’t either, but Ford wasn’t crazy. He knew his brother chose not to have friends so that he could hang with Ford instead. He felt guilty about that on occasion, but most of the time he was only grateful. Which made him even guiltier. He made other children uncomfortable, because of his freakish hands and his high intellect. They were picked on by the stronger kids which also put a dark mark on them. Other kids tended not to even talk to them in fear of being picked on by their bullies. That had happened, once. A kid, Ford couldn’t remember their name, had joined them at lunch. That evening he’d been threatened by their bullies.

Losing Stan to a girl had always terrified him. If he lost Stan, he’d be alone. It’d just be him and the judging looks. Stan’s life would be easier without Ford. Ford’s would be lonely without Stan.

He shook the dark thoughts away and reminded himself that Stan hadn’t actually ignored him yet. He’d sent a lot of looks Susan’s way, of course, but he’d joked with Ford. It was Ford that suggested they split up. Not Stan. It was Stan that suggest they regroup for the games. 

“Ahh!” A stuttering voice gasped in shock as Ford collided with him.

The man was bald and round. He was wearing a gray jumpsuit that was strangely slick. He had on a watch and goggles as well. He had some sort of device in his hand that Ford couldn’t get a look at. Soos caught Ford before he could stumble. 

“I-I” The man stuttered in shock.

“Sorry,” Ford replied politely. He glanced at Soos to say a ‘thank you’ but was cut off by a gasp of alarm from the boy. He looked back at where jumpsuit man was and found him missing. He was simply gone. Which was weird. He wasn’t the type to blend in with a crowd. Especially not this one.

“He just vanished, dude!” 

“Into the crowd?”

“No!” Soos exclaimed too loudly. Ford automatically shushed him and looked around nervously. “In the thin air.” Soos squeaked. He wrapped his arms around himself. “It’s freaking me out, man.” He didn't look right worried.   


“Don’t worry. There has to be a logical explanation for it. Come on.” He grabbed Soos by the shoulders and steered him to the back of the exhibits. There wasn’t anyone over there. He pulled the journal out of his jacket and flipped it open.

“What’s that?”

“A journal on some of the oddities of Gravity Falls.” He flipped through the pages, looking for anything that might mention disappearing. None of the creatures seemed right. 

“A gremoblin? The Hide Behind? What are those?” Soos sounded a little scared so Ford decided to stash the book back in his jacket. 

“They’re rare creatures. I’m fairly certain their extinct.” He was quite certain of the opposite. He just wasn’t going to tell Soos. He offered him a smile and motioned for Soos to follow him back into the crowd. “Let’s just ignore it for now. We can look at the exhibits. There’s one on pancake speakeasies that I want to see.”

“What’s a speakeasy?” Soos asked. He was obediently following and seemed calmer.

“It’s an illegal establishment that sold illegal alcohol. They rose up during the prohibition of alcohol in the early 1900s. A pancake speakeasy implies that there was a time when pancakes were illegal.”

“Cool.”

* * *

Stan felt like his date was going pretty well. Susan had laughed at his jokes and he hadn’t called her a cow or a wasp this time. Susan had ordered a plate of biscuits and beans and didn’t give a hint that she expected him to pay for it. She hadn’t gotten offended when he’d bought her a molasses cake either. They’d chosen an empty table to sit at and chatted while they ate. He couldn’t really remember what he said either.

“What time is it?” Susan asked the question as she brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. Stan had to focus to hear what she’d said. He blinked once or twice and then dropped his eyes to his watch.

“Uh, 12:55” Dang. They’d been hanging out for almost an hour. That was cool.

“Oh.” Susan’s demeanor dropped and she started playing with her paper napkin. Stan was instantly on guard.

“Why?” She glanced up at him with sad eyes before looking at her napkin. She tore it in half. 

“Dad needs me back at 1:30.” She tore the napkin into smaller pieces. “I was supposed to have Pioneer day off but our usual waitress couldn’t come in.” She sighed and gathered the broken pieces of napkin up in a pile. “I’ll need to leave at 1:15.”

“Oh.” He looked at the pile of napkin bits. “Was there anyone else who could take over? I kinda hoped we could play some games together.” Why hadn’t she told him earlier? He wouldn’t have wasted all their time eating. 

“No.” She sighed and dropped the napkin bits into her empty cup. “It’s just me and Dad today. We could still probably get a couple games in though.” She smiled hopefully. “Maybe even the ferris wheel?”

“Err, is there something else you’d uh, rather do?” He absolutely could not go back up on a ferris wheel. Being stuck up there once was enough to last him an entire lifetime. “The line for the ferris wheel is long.” 

She looked over her shoulder and considered the line. Her braided hair slipped over her shoulders. Stan had wanted to touch her hair since he’d met her. It looked soft. 

“How about the ball toss game?” Stan focused on where she was pointing and saw a booth set up with cans that people were trying to knock down. It was a notoriously rigged game but that didn’t scare Stan. He’d learned several tricks from the old conmen who worked the beach.

“Sure.” He smiled broadly at her. “What’s the prize?”

“A duck.” She winked at him and stood up. She gathered her trash while Stan clumsily stood. They tossed their junk into the garbage and went to the game booth. Stan almost took her hand but his courage failed at the last moment. 

He examined the booth as they neared and squinted. “Hmm. That’s not a duck, it’s clearly a panda.”

“You’re on, Pines.” Susan declared with a confident grin. She laid two coins down on the counter and smiled at the carnie. “Two balls, please.”

“That’s one shot a piece, miss.” He passed her the yellow balls. She shared a smile with Stan before replying.

“I know.” She stepped aside and dramatically swept her hand towards the counter. “You first, Stanley.”

He swaggered up to the counter and tossed the ball into the air before catching it. He tried to make it look like he was showing off but he was actually checking to see how the ball acted. It was lighter than it looked and spun a bit. Definitely not a normal ball. 

Welp, here went nothing. He pulled his arm back, flashed Susan a cocky grin, and tossed the ball. It hit the can perfectly, and promptly bounced off of it. It came hurtling at Susan. Stan shouted in shock but he was too slow. It hit her in the face.

Susan’s hand flew up to cover her face and she let out a squeak of pain and fright. The carnie exclaimed something that Stan didn’t hear or care about. He sprang to Susan’s side and grabbed her arms.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” 

“Does it look bad?” She opened her hands enough to show her right eye and cheek. The cheek and eye were already starting to swell. Tears of pain were flooding her eyes. 

“Oh god.” He turned angrily towards the carnie. “Do you have anything cold? Ice?”

The carnie gaped at him like a fish. He didn’t make any movie to answer. Stan banged his hand on the counter. It made the man jump and he seemed to come back to himself.

“Um. Yeah.” He turned around and grabbed out a can of pit soda out of a cooler he had on the ground.

“The ice.” Stan demanded. He tugged a napkin out of his pocket. Susan was trying to wipe some of the tears out of her left eye. She kept her right side covered. The carnie blinked stupidly at him and then reached down to grab a handful of ice. Stan took the ice with a glare and dropped it in the napkin. He wrapped it shut and passed it to Susan. 

“It’ll sting,” He explained, “but this will seriously help the swelling stay minimum.” She moved her hand from her face and tilted her face towards him. He carefully placed the ice against her swollen skin. She hovered her hand next to his. He took her hand with his free hand and put it over the napkin. “There,” he murmured with a flush of embarrassment, “that should help.”

“Uh.” The carnie said after a moment. “You still have another shot to try for the prize.”

Stan turned slowly towards the man. He tried to school his expression to hide the rage rising in him at that statement. This ripoff’s rigged game had just injured his kinda-girlfriend and this idiot dared to insinuate that they only had one more chance to win the prize?

“Are you shitting me?” He asked carefully. The carnie blinked and slowly shook his head. Stan, without breaking eye contact, grabbed the pit soda and hurled it at the tower of cans. It bounced of the cans the same way the ball had. It fell to the ground and rolled into the wall. The carnie flushed. “Unless you want me to make a very loud scene, you’re going to give Susan whichever of those dolls she wants, however many she wants, as well as her money back.”

Stan won the staring contest. The man reached into the cash box and pulled out her coins. He passed them to her and motion towards the dolls.

“Which did you want?”

“Feel free to pick as many as you want.” Stan added with a smile at Susan. She smiled shakily back and considered the array of dolls. 

“I want that one,” She pointed to a slightly malformed duck/panda hybrid. The carnie took it down and passed it to her. “And that one.” She pointed towards a snowglobe that had the ‘Gravity Falls’ sign in it. The carnie looked pained but handed it to her. It was the only one there and was probably a grand prize or something. Tough for him.

“Now I’m going to walk her to her ride. You’re gonna fix that game.” He took Susan’s elbow and guided her away from the game. They’d basically used up any time they had. 

“Th-thanks, Stan.” Susan murmured. Her non ice covered cheek was a fetching pink. She was hugging the doll to her chest and it looked like she might be smiling.

“I’m sorry.” He replied. Guilt was churning in his stomach. Guilt that he’d thrown the ball that hurt her face. Guilt that this was the second time she’d gotten hit in the face while they were hanging out. Guilty that he was terrified of heights and couldn’t have ridden the ferris wheel with her. Guilty that he kept getting distracted by her blush and hair while she was in pain.

He couldn’t express any of that so he settled with sorry.

“Don’t be.” She smiled a little more obviously and turned to look at him. He held up a hand to pause her and switched to her other side so she could look at him with the good eye. “It was fun. I can’t believe he was cheating like that. I didn’t even catch on that he was. If you hadn’t called him out someone else might have gotten hurt too.”

They reached the parking lot and she turned to look at him. Her smile dropped and she eyed the cars nervously. 

“I can manage from here.” 

“Oh.” He dropped her arm and stepped back. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and looked at the ground. His shoes were scuffed. His cut off shorts also looked a little tattered. She probably didn’t want to be seen with him looking like this. 

“I… I just, um, I didn’t tell my dad that we were, uh, going on a date?” Her voice went up on the last words making it a question. She clutched her stuffed doll tighter. “I don’t think he’d have let me.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. I could have invited more people and made it more of a group hangout?” 

“He’d probably be fine with that.” She smiled a little shyly before it dropped. “I’ve got to go. My dad freaks out when I’m late. He’ll already be on edge with this.” She motioned towards her face with the stuffed animal. 

Stan tensed up and stepped back. “Go on then. I’ll uh, see you later. At the diner. I think we’re doing something next week for Summerween. That’s what Graunty Mabel said.”

“That’d be great!” She stepped backwards and tripped. She laughed it off and jogged towards the cars.

He watched Susan make her way through the crowd with a sigh. So much for his first date. Why didn’t she tell him she had to work earlier? And wasn’t it like illegal for a kid to have to work so many hours? Sure, he did, but that was because he wanted to. He liked working in the Mystery Shack and Mabel gave them money and snack privileges. They were also allowed to stop whenever. Surely her pa could let her have a few hours off. 

He wouldn’t push it though. She’d said he’d freak out if she was late and Stan didn’t want her father freaking out because of something he did. He couldn’t handle it if someone’s pa was upset with them because of some goof he made. He was already responsible for her black eye. 

He turned around and headed back to the festival. Maybe they’d have one of those strength test where you tried to ring the bell. He wanted to hit something.

He had been walking for a few minutes when he felt someone move closer to him. He glanced to the side and saw a short, plump, blue suited boy. He was beaming up at Stanley who felt even more irritated.

“Hello, Stanley. How are you enjoying the festival?” Bud asked with a coy smile. Stan resisted a shudder and chose to walk away. Bud, of course, followed. Stan was torn between worry and disgust. The boy leaned towards him as they walked. His hand was reaching towards Stan’s hand. He quickly stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. He instinctively hunched his shoulders as well, hiding his neck and slouching. “Did you get my present?”

He had gotten the package. He’d promptly thrown it away. Mabel had seen him doing it and had given him a high five for his efforts.

“Bud, leave me alone.” He kept his tone clipped and quickened his pace. For having such short legs, Bud didn’t have much trouble keeping up. Stan wasn’t sure how the boy had even found him in this crowd. He didn’t exactly stand out like some of the people in Gravity Falls. Toby Determined couldn’t have blended into a crowd if his life depended on it.

“I have been. You didn’t see me at your treasure hunt cheering your team on. I didn’t go to the diner and witness your victory over the manliness test.” His fingers hovered over Stanley’s arm, barely not touching the slim muscles there. For the first time Stan regretted not having long sleeves like Ford. He jerked his body to the right and glowered at Bud. He just might hit the conman if he tried that again. Though, knowing Bud, he’d probably enjoy it. That was a disturbing thought that made Stanley’s skin crawl a little. More than the phantom touch though it was the words that disturbed Stanley most.

Bud hadn’t been invited to their birthday party. Bud hadn’t been at the diner when he’d beaten that game. Did he have a spy in town who told what Stanley had done or did he spy himself? Neither thought was particularly good. It was alarming enough to make him slip his fingers through his bronze knuckles.

He rounded on Bud and stared him down. “Listen carefully, Gleeful, back off. Stay away from me and my business. If I catch ya sniffing around me, my family, or my friends again, I’ll punch you.”

“What friends? As far as I can tell, there’s no one around here. Everyone else left. Ford went off with McGucket. Soos went with Mabel. And where is Susan? Oh. That’s right.” He paused and brought his hands up to make air quotes. “She’s at the diner.”

Stan pulled his hands out of his pocket and shoved Bud hard enough to knock him down. A few people nearby gasped in shock. One started moving their way. Stan had been in enough tussles in his life to know that now was the time to leave. Given the choice between someone who was well dressed and polite, and someone who was rougher and less put together… well society didn’t take very long to believe the Bud’s of this world over the Stan’s. He twisted on his heel and ran into the crowd behind him. His hands were clenched in fists and his normally fuzzy vision was blurred with tears of anger. His chest felt tighter with every breath. Where was Ford? He needed to find him. If Bud knew where he was there was a chance he’d be hurt. Bud was crazy. Stan might have been alone but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe Bud just wanted to hang.

He found Ford about three minutes later. His twin was sitting on a park bench holding something in his hands. Stan couldn’t make out what it was. His brother was smiling and his feet were swinging against the bottom of the bench. He looked fine. He looked happy.

“Ford!” He called with a pant. He jogged up to his brother’s side and slipped next to him on the bench. “You okay? What happened? Where’s Soos?”

“With Graunty Mabel.” Ford answered. His brow furrowed in confusion before slipping into worry. “Why? Is something going on?” 

Stan shook his head and gave a shaky exhale. His eyes were automatically drawn to the bruises around Ford’s throat had lightened considerably. Mabel didn’t think they’d be visible at all by next week. He’d probably overreacted. Anytime he caught a glimpse of Bud he’d find his pulse spiking and worry would fill his gut until it was difficult to breathe. He wouldn’t be able to relax until he could see Ford. Ford kept insisting that he didn’t think Bud would have actually killed him. He’d get a worried look in his eyes though that told Stan Ford wasn’t certain about that. 

“Just Bud. He was following me and implied he’d done the same with you.” He shrugged and smiled self deprecatingly. “You know how I get.”

“Nothing bad has happened at all. In fact,” his smile grew painfully large and he tipped his hand to show what he was holding. It was a polaroid picture with an absolutely hideous looking creature.

“What is that?” Stan asked dutifully. He knew his brother wanted to talk about the creature.

“It’s the Gremoblin.” Ford’s grin grew large and eager. His fingers were twitching with excitement.

“That monster in the journal?”

“Yes. Fiddleoford and I were looking for the gnomes when we came across it. With some quick thinking we managed to get a picture.” He laughed and lifted the picture up. “We’ve got actual proof, Stan.”

“Is that the monster that shows you your worst fear?” Stan asked with another look at the creature. He was ugly and mean looking. 

“Only if you look it in the eyes. We were very careful not to do that.” He paused and a thoughtful frown tugged the corner of his lips down. “Fiddleford was the one who spotted him.”

“Hmm.” He turned to look at the crowd around them. There was an endless blur of old timey outfits. People really got into this day. 

“Wait, where’s Susan?” Stan snorted at the sudden question. Just like Sixer. So caught up in his mind that he didn’t notice the obvious. Stan loved that about his brother-most of the time. Social cues were not Ford’s strong point. 

“She got a black eye out of a rigged game and had to go work at the diner.” He tried to shrug nonchalantly but it came out a little grumpy. 

“That’s horrible!” Ford exclaimed. He shook his head indignantly and laid a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “Did you report the game?”

“Not yet. I figured I’d get Graunty Mabel to do it. I extorted prizes for Susan instead.” He sighed and tried to cheer up. It hadn’t been a terrible first date. It hadn’t been a good one, but it probably could have gone worse. Right?

“Did she only have a lunch break free?” Ford asked after a few seconds of silence. He hadn’t moved his hand and Stan was grateful for that. Ford tended to have trouble expressing himself verbally but he was tactile. He’d touch without much hesitation. Stan loved physical touch but had a lot of trouble seeking it out. He didn’t always struggle with what he wanted to say, and he was almost always aware of what he was feeling but he struggled getting the courage to touch. He liked cuddling with people he was close to. His pa wasn’t a fan of men touching other people unless they were their spouse and even that was only to be done on occasion. 

“Somethin’ like that. I think she found out today and was worried about sayin’ anything.” he shook his head and laughed self deprecatingly. “Apparently she didn’t tell her pa we were on a date. She’s not actually allowed to go on dates.”

“Oh.” Ford said. Stan nodded.

“Yeah. She said she was worried he’d freak out. I told her to go on back. We’ll do group hang outs in the future. Her Pa is okay with that.” Stan saw understanding in his brother’s eyes and smiled. They knew not to freak fathers out.

“Come on. Let’s go find Mabel and let her know the games are rigged. She’ll know who to report that to. Then you can show me where you spotted that monster thing.” Stan stood up and offered his hand to Ford. Ford promptly took it. Once he was up right he pat Stan on the shoulder. 

They took a step forward and-

“Aagh!” There was a strange ‘swooshing’ noise and then both boys were colliding with a large man. Stan collided with the man’s chest and instantly got a mouthful of strangely slick fabric. He reeled back and saw a few flashes of color before his eyes focused on who they’d hit. He was a large, bald, man in a gray jumpsuit with goggles on.

The man had most certainly not been there a second before. Stan was nearsighted but he wasn’t blind. He would have seen him. The guy just appeared out of thin air.

“You!” Ford said accusingly. He pointed at the man. “How did you do that?”

“Aaaagh!” the man said again. His voice was weirdly high and nasally. It was the kind of voice that would get annoying quick. The kind of voice that you knew did a lot of complaining. 

The man stepped back and almost hit another random passerby. “My position has been compromised! Assuming stealth mode.” He practically shrieked out. He brought his wrist up and mashed a button on his watch. “Color match!” His jumpsuit flashed a different color and for a moment Stan saw a scene of a building in the man’s suit, and then it was gray again. “Initiating color match!” The man said again. He smashed his watch again and another scene popped up on his jumpsuit. This time it was a forest of oak trees. “Come on, dang it!”

“That’s incredible!” Ford exclaimed. He stepped closer to look at the watch. From Stan’s view it wasn’t a watch so much as a digital screen with several buttons “How are you doing that?”

“Are you from the future or somethin’?” Stan asked suspiciously. He’d seen the technology this town had. Fiddleford was by far the most technologically advanced person here and he had nothing like this. Most of the people here still had flip phones for crying out loud. Not to mention the arcade was like, the only game systems here and all those games were from the 90s or earlier. Also, a time traveler wouldn’t be the weirdest thing they’d seen in this town. In Stan’s opinion, the giant made of gnomes wore that badge. The human copying copier had been a close second though. Toby Determined would also probably make the list.

“Um, NO!” The man scrambled back. “Who told you that?” He reached into his jumpsuit and pulled out a small white cloth and flung it at Stan’s face. “MEMORY WIPE!”

Stan peeled it off and looked at the man skeptically. It had a chemically taste and a very familiar scent. “Uh, man, this is a baby wipe.”

“Time dang it! All right,” The man practically sobbed. “You’ve caught me. I’m… I’m a time traveler.”

“Wait. Are you saying you have an actual time traveling device?” Ford couldn’t seem to help but ask the question. Stan looked the man over but didn’t see anything obvious. Not that he really knew what to look for.

“Yes, I mean- No!” He reached down for his belt and grabbed at something nervously. It was a square black shape but Stan didn’t get a good look before the man was covering it with his hand.

“Is that the device?” He asked. He reached for it. “Can I look at it?”

“N-n-no! This is extremely sensitive and complicated time equipment!” The man shifted his grip on it and Stan finally got a good look at the device. It was a small squarish shape, mostly black with yellow detail work. There was an hourglass symbol on the front.

“Really?” Stan asked with an unimpressed frown. “’Cause it looks like a tape measure.”

“You shut your time-mouth!” The man declared with a squeaky shriek. Stan shared a look with Ford who shrugged in reply.

“He sounds crazy.” Stan whispered. Ford nodded sagely.

“Oh! You don’t believe me?” The man demanded. He grabbed at the ‘time travel device’ which did indeed look like a tape measure. He pulled the tape out of the end of it and let it snap back in. He was suddenly gone. The twins both jumped in shock. Before they could react in any other way though, the man was back. He had on a hat like Henry VIII wore.

“That’s right! Fifteen years ago there was a costume shop right here.” 

“So, what’s your name?” Stan asked. The man puffed up.

“Blendin. Blendin Blandin, Time Anomaly Removal Crew year twenty sñeventy-twelve.”

“Sñeventy?” Ford mouthed.

“My mission is to stop a series of time anomalies that are supposed to happen at this location today. But-but I don’t see any anomalies. I don’t know if it’s some kind of paradox, or I’m just really tired.” Blendin sagged and hung his head. Stan almost felt sorry for him. However, he’d already had a shitty day and needed to make it better. He reached forward and pat Blendin on the arm.

“You know, they’ve got a lot of games over by that there ferris wheel. You could go for a ride or two. The wheel has a great view of the entire festival. You’ll be able to see if anything happens and ya get to go for a ride. Ya know, to relax.” He shrugged. “Just a suggestion.”

Blendin straightened. “You know what? I-I’m gonna do that. I’m worth it!” Blendin pat him on the head and didn’t notice the scowl he got for the action. “Thanks!” He turned and strolled towards the ferris wheel ride.

“I can’t believe we just let a time traveler leave.” Ford said with a frown. 

“Why do we need him?” Stan asked with a grin. He turned to Ford and opened his hand to reveal the time travel device. “When we have this?”

Ford stared at it with his mouth agape. “How did you-“

“It’s not like it was hard. I had it before I mentioned the ride. I just wanted to get rid of him before we used it.” He’d pick pocketed a few items in his life, but never with such ease. He’d never met a guy with less spatial awareness. Well… Maybe Ford when he was reading, but that was about it.

He locked eyes with Ford and his smile turned mischievous as he passed him the time travel tape. “So, we can use this to fix what has honestly been a bit of a shitty day?”

Ford gave a fragile smile and examined the time tape. He nodded his head. 

“Hold my arm. I don’t know if it’ll do an area of effect or if it’ll just transport me and anything I’m touching.” Stan followed the order and grasped his brother’s arm. Ford pressed a button on the top of the time tape and pulled the tape out. He looked up and gave an eager to smile to Stan before releasing the tape.

Everything went bright for a moment and there was an intense tugging sensation. He tightened his grip on Ford’s arm as his breath was forced out of his lungs. The air got hot and pressed around them painfully. The ground disappeared beneath their feet and they were free falling in the hot, oppressive air. Their feet collided with something hard and they were standing on the grass again. Ford staggered a little and Stan righted him. He sucked in a sharp lungful of air. It hurt a little. 

“Did it work? How far back did you go?” Stan abruptly stopped talking and tightened his grip on Ford’s arm enough that Ford winced and jerked away. His brother looked up to see the same thing Stan was looking at. They were not where they’d started. They were in a thick forest and it was extremely humid. More shocking than that though was the dinosaur standing about three feet from them.

Ford screamed at the top of his lungs as the Tyrannosaurus Rex bellowed a deafening roar. He jerked the tape out of the time tape and released it. They were compressed again and then they were standing on dirt. They looked around and saw a man sitting backwards on a horse. He wasn’t wearing pants and had old fashioned looking bloomer type things.

“Nope.” Ford declared. He pulled the tape again and they were suddenly back in the town square surrounded by Pioneer Day people.

“Did that work? This at least looks right.” Stan said a little breathlessly. He felt sick. Ford fiddled with the time tape and released a sigh of relief.

“Oh god. It worked.” He tilted the tape and showed Stan. It showed today’s date at 12:02.” There was a loud burst of crackling static followed by a microphone squeal. 

“Howdy, everyone! You all know me, Preston Northwest, great-great grandson of town-founder, Nathaniel Northwest. I'm also very rich.”

“Holy shit.” Stan exclaimed. Ford’s hand clasped around his arm. He jumped excitedly. 

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” He squeezed Stan’s arm as he spluttered the words out in one breath. He dropped the time tape in his pocket and pulled out the Journal. He started to scribble things down on one of the blank pages. “This is incredible! Think of the possibilities!” Stan shook his head fondly before focusing. They only had a minute before Susan would show up. He needed to get to the stage to meet her.

“So how we gonna do this? Should I just go up to Susan or what?” He tilted his head as Preston continued to talk. God, he’d forgotten how arrogant that little shit was. 

Ford blinked in confusion. “Oh.” He shook his head a little and shut the notebook. “Right. I’ll go with you. I’m not certain if we’ll have duplicates or not. The law of conservation of mass makes me think that won’t be an issue, but theoretically time travel shouldn’t work either. Perhaps they swapped with us.” Stan wasn’t sure what he was even talking about. Ford chewed on his bottom lip and then pointed. “There’s Susan and Soos.” That was good enough for Stanley. They headed off to redo the day.

* * *

Ford decided he would hang with Soos as he had previously. They’d had fun together and he was leary about changing too many things. Time anomalies weren’t something he was particularly eager to create. Stan would probably create a few but they hadn’t actually lived far enough into their future to see any results happen. They just had to make sure they collided with Blendin again. Otherwise, they’d have never traveled back to begin with. That sent his brain spiraling down another complex series of calculations on Gneral Relativity, and other paradoxes. He finally shook his head and huffed. If the future had only seen it fit to send back Blendin Blandin, who seemed less than competent, then they could not possibly have done anything too terrible. It was obvious that they were the cause of the ‘anomalies’ which was another conundrem in and of itself. If Blendin hadn’t gone to investigate the anomalies they wouldn’t have been create-

“Enough.” He said the word forcibly and tugged on the front of his coat. It was enough to force his mind out of the spiral he had gotten into. It was difficult to focus when he had too much stimuli, whether it was physical, emotional, or mental. Stan typically helped him out but he had to tackle himself by himself right now.

He found Soos in the crowd as he had an hour or so earlier. They checked out the same exhibits, made the same comments, and took the same pictures. Surprisingly, it was still fun. At that point Graunty Mabel swung by talking about a pig. Just as before, Soos went with her. She’d been happy to have him along. Ford had found out over the summer that the two were pretty close. Soos hung out at the shack almost every day. Mabel would give him different things to do and Fiddleford would let the kid shadow him. He wasn’t sure what Soos home life was like but he had never heard him talk about a mother. Only his Abuelito and his dad who had to work a lot of hours. He rather expected there wasn’t a mother which would explain his attachment to Mabel…

“Ford!” He froze at the sound of the cheerful voice calling his name. Fiddleford McGucket was jogging towards him. He had on prospector clothes and the look strangely fit him. His heart raced at seeing the teenager. McGucket was smiling broadly and looked genuinely happy to see him. His glasses were lying crooked on his nose but he didn’t seem to notice it. Every detail was the same as before. It was utterly remarkable. Fiddleford himself was enough to make Ford’s heart race. Fiddleford and time travel together about made him dizzy.

“I didn’t expect to see you here. Pioneer day always attracts a large crowd.” He had a caramel apple in his right hand, which Ford hadn’t noticed last time until much later. 

“I didn’t expect to see so many people.” Ford laughed and pushed his glasses up his nose uncomfortably. He shook his sleeves back over his hands and let them hang at his side. It occurred to him as he did so that he’d done the same thing last time. Strange. He hadn’t been aware of doing the self conscious motion at the time.

“Yeah. It’s a lot of Northwest propaganda but it’s fun to pretend we’re back in the olden times.” Fiddleford said, just as before. They fell into the same conversation. Ford was able to focus more this time around. Fiddleford was brilliant and therefore easy for Ford to talk to. He had a tendency to speak about things other people didn’t understand or care about. Fiddleford understood nearly everything, and was interested in their strange town. 

They found the monster with no trouble. They took their pictures and carefully avoided eye contact. Ford pretended to add the notes he had already written down in the previous past to his journal. That sparked a conversation about the journal with Fiddleford who was delightfully interested. 

After they finished, he made his way back to the same bench and waited for Stan. His brother appeared at the same time he had previously. He was scowling.

“Did something go wrong?” Ford promptly asked. Stan dropped into the seat beside him and nodded in annoyance.

“Yep. She got. another. black. eye.” He groaned and dropped his head backwards. His hands rose up to cover his eyes and he shook his head. Ford placed his hand on his brother’s arm and frowned. Guilt churned in his stomach at Stan’s obvious annoyance and sorrow. His brother had never been particularly gifted at hiding his emotions. He wore his heart on his sleeve. Despite the punches the miserable world insisted on throwing at Stan, he never hid his heart. Ford loved him for it and wanted to hit the world for making him hurt.

“How?”

Stan straightened up and dropped his arms. He looked at Ford and let out a disparaging and disbelieving chuckle. 

“It was the dumbest thing, Sixer. She got hit by the bouncing ball from the stupid game. We were even at the ring toss and she just got clocked by the cheaters ball.” He propped his hands on his knees. “Third times the charm, right?”

Was it possible that the forces of time naturally conspire to undo any new outcomes? No. That couldn’t be right. Otherwise they wouldn’t be having this conversation. They hadn’t before. Right?

Regardless. All hypothesis required more than one test. He pulled the tape out of his pocket.

* * *

Twenty five failed test later and he was willing to admit that time refusing a different outcome was starting to look convincing.

He had filled out three notebook pages with different calculations and they all seemed to end with the same result.

“Is it hopeless, Sixer?” Stan finally asked. “Am I just destined to screw up this date?” He was about to respond that it seemed likely when the exact words Stan had used registered with him. Screw up. That was a label Stan was always getting stuck with. By their teachers. By their bullies. By their Pa.

That was enough for Ford. He looked at all the equations and knew what the missing piece was.

“No. I think there’s a way.”

* * *

He didn’t get the picture of the Gremoblin and he didn’t get to hang out with Fiddleford. That was okay though. He could find him later on. The important thing was that Susan did not end up with a black eye. She did end up with a duck doll, or possibly a panda doll. Ford wasn’t sure what it was. She also ended up with the impression that Stan had incredibly quick reflexes. Thanks entirely to some quick movements by Ford and Stan. They told on the game rigging carnie and made their way back to the bench.

“Agh!” A high, whiny, voice shrieked. The twins jumped and turned around to see Blending charging at them. “You two!” He exclaimed when he reached them. He jerked the time tape out of Ford’s hands. “Do you have any idea, how many rules you just broke?! I'm asking; I wasn't there with you... it was probably a lot, right?”

The twins glanced at each other. Before they could respond two new figures popped into existence in front of them.

“Blendin Blandin...” They were dressed in futuristic suits with a green monitor in front of their right eye.

“AAAAGH!” Blendin screeched. A few Pioneer Day enthusiasts turned to look at him. “The Time Paradox Avoidant Enforcement Squadron!”

“That's right,” the new men said, “and our phones have been ringing off the hook! You're under arrest for violation of the Time Traveler's Code of Conduct.” They brought out to silver rings that they latched onto Blendin’s hands. An electrical current lit them when they were on him.

“It was those kids!” Blendin squeaked. The men gave no indication that they cared or believed him. “I'll get you for this! I'll go back in time and make sure your parents never MEET!!” They led him away and disappeared. The twins waited a beat before looking at each other.

“Well, we’re still here.” Ford finally said. Stan snorted and grinned.

“Let’s go find a Gremoblin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this from scratch four different times and I'm still not happy. I don't know why. I'm just not. I've never liked Irrational Treasure much and it doesn't seem like it would work with Stan. He has a very different kind of silly than Mabel. I thought I'd just put Time Traveler Pig during Pioneer day. You need time travel for weirdmeggedon, right ;)
> 
> Anybody actually reading this story? If so, please say hi. I don't know anyone who watches this show irl and it's a bummer. I've got an idea for a timestuck au as well but I don't know if anyone would be interested in reading that. Also, constructive criticism is always welcome. I can't get better without feedback...


	8. Little Dipper: You're the light of my life too, pal

“It is too hot.” Mabel declared with a despondent sigh. She was sitting on the rocking chair she had on the porch while the twins were lying under the ceiling fan she’d installed there. It didn’t make it much cooler but it gave the illusion of it.

“You could take off your sweater.” Stan remarked. He had his eyes closed and his shirt off. He was wearing a pair of shorts for ‘decency’ but that was it. He’d just dunked an entire glass of water over himself and it had helped some. He felt cooler at least.

He felt Mabel nudge him with her shoe. He poked one sweaty eye open to see her glaring. He snorted and closed it again.

“Take off my masterpiece?” She demanded. “I’ll have you know Picasso couldn’t have done better.” Her current sweater was a rainbow pattern with a pig on the front. Waddles, the newest addition to the Pines family, was spread out on the ground beside her. He was munching on an ice cube. Ford was a few feet to Stan’s other side. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt, jeans, and the trench coat. He had on socks but no shoes. It was as undressed as Ford typically got.

“Picasso’s the one that just threw colors on a canvas, right?”

“No.” Ford replied sleepily. “That’s Pollock. Picasso’s the one that made abstracted humans.”

“Hey Soos.” Mabel called cheerily. Stan pried his eye back open and saw Soos walking towards them. He had on his typical Mystery Shack question mark shirt and ball cap.

“Hi Miss Pines.” The boy called shyly. He waved at everyone and Stan hummed for a greeting.

“That’s it.” Mabel declared. She peeled herself off the chair and stood up. “Ford, Soos, run and get the sprinkler system. We’re cooling off.”

“I’ll get it, Graunty.” Stan forced himself up right with a wince. It felt like he’d just lost a layer of skin. Ow.

“Thanks, sweetie, but isn’t Ford taller?”

Ford sat up right at that and turned to look at Mabel. “Huh?”

“Tape measure!” Stan demanded as he scrambled to his feet. He slipped on the water he’d poured on himself and nearly fell. He righted himself and grabbed the wall. He used it to get to the door and tugged it open. The house was as hot as the outdoors. He went to the toolbox Fiddleford kept by the door and grabbed the tape measure. He went back outside and shoved it into Mabel’s hand.

“Measure us. Now.” He grabbed Ford and turned him around. His twin followed the motion with a laugh. He put his back to Ford’s and stood as straight as he could.

“Calm down, Stan. It’s not that ‘big’ of a deal.” Ford held his breath and Stan shook his head.

“No puns. This is serious.” Mabel snorted at his statement and brought the tape measure up.

“Don’t worry.” She stated as she measured them. “I won’t think ‘little’ of either of you regardless of who is taller.” She looked at the results and gave her head a decisive nod. Stan couldn’t breathe.

“Yep. Ford is a millimeter taller.”

“What!” He shouted. He turned on his heel and grabbed the tape measure. “How much is that?”

“A tenth of a centimeter.” Ford replied. He turned around and smiled at Stan. He put his hands on his hips. “You’re really a ‘little’ brother now.” Mabel laughed loudly at the joke.

Stan stared at the tape measure in shock. He’d been betrayed. By his own body, no less! How could Ford be taller? He was supposed to be the bigger twin! That was the deal. Ford got the brains and Stan got the brawns. The brawns included being stronger and taller.

“Who even uses millimeters?” Stan demanded. He couldn’t believe this was happening. That was all he had. His height and strength. Next thing he’d know Ford would get that too and Stan would have nothing.

“Scientist.” Ford replied promptly. He adjusted his glasses.

“That only makes you taller than me to nerds.” Stan replied. He clicked the tape back in and shoved it in his pocket.

“Hey, hey,” Mabel grinned and winked at Ford. “Don’t get… short with your brother.” She snorted at her own joke and beamed.

Stan shoved his hands in his pocket and gripped the tape. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

“Hey, uh, dudes, maybe you should lay off a tiny bit.”

“Ha!” Mabel exclaimed delightedly, “good one, Soos!”

“No, that’s-“

“Whatever.” Stan declared darkly. He pushed past his brother and Great Aunt. “I’ll get the stupid sprinklers.”

He came back out a few minutes later with the sprinkler and set it up. Ford went inside and set his trench coat on the stairs. He came back outside with a big smile.

Soos helped Stan set the sprinklers up.

“I didn’t mean to tease you, dude.” He said self-consciously. Stan frowned and turned the sprinklers on.

“Yeah. Whatever. I don’t care.”

“Don’t worry.” Mabel called from the porch. She was setting a pitcher of sparkly lemonade out. “Stan’ll forget, he has a,” She elbowed Ford who grinned with her.

“Short term memory!” They shouted together. They both broke down laughing and that was it for Stan. He went past them towards the door.

“Ow.” Ford exclaimed. Stan paused just long enough to see his brother shaking his hand. Rookie mistake. Mabel high-fived  _ hard. _

He shut the door behind him and promptly tripped on Ford’s coat. The coat Stan had bought him. The ingrate. He kicked it away and had to bite his lip to keep from yelping as he stubbed his toe. What did his brother have in-oh. The journal. Duh.

Huh. There was a thought. He pulled it out of the jacket and went towards the stairs. He flipped through it curiously. His brother had never actually let him look at it by himself. Ford was always holding it in some way. There was a lot of interesting stuff in it.

He paused on a page with an illustration of what looked like diamonds. Now that was interesting. And potentially very useful.

* * *

Getting the gem wasn’t as tricky as he thought it would be. It had just been a matter of avoiding a few freakishly large insects and the beams of light the larger gems were giving off. Once he had the gem secured he bought a flashlight. He then headed back home.

It had been about three hours with everything together. He reached the Mystery Shack and saw Ford and Mabel sitting on the front porch. They were both soaked and drinking the sparkly lemonade.

“Oh thank God!” Mabel exclaimed when she saw him. “Didn’t I tell you not to wander off without letting someone know?” She grabbed him by his shoulders and spun him around to face her. “Didn’t I make it a rule?”

“Yeah.” He replied shortly. Mabel huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. Ford was watching the scene carefully. He went alert quite suddenly and set the glass down.

“Uh, Graunty?” Mabel and Stan redirected their attention and saw a man in a suit walking towards them with a huge check. Stan couldn’t make out the number on it, but it looked big.

“Can I help you?” Mabel asked politely. She went down the steps and subtly arranged herself so she was in front of Stan. He wouldn’t have even noticed the action if he hadn’t done the exact same thing with Ford a million times.

“Are you Mabel Pines?” She nodded her head and the tall man continued. “Congratulations! I’m with the Winninghouse Coupon Savers contest, and YOU ARE OUR BIIIIIIG WINNER!” He threw a big handful of confetti into the air and jumped.

“We’re rich!” Ford exclaimed. “I’m going to buy a laboratory!”

“Just sign here for the money.” The suit man passed Mabel a clipboard with several papers on it. She took the pen up and signed at the bottom. She set the pen down and suddenly the check was being ripped in half. Bud Gleeful stepped between the ripped halves with his hands up in the air in a victory dance.

“Mabel you fool!” He sang, “You just signed over the Mystery Shack to Little ol me!”

Ford let out a shocked gasp. Stan raised his fist and charged towards Bud. Mabel caught his shoulder and pulled him back.

“Might want to check again, Budster.”

“What?” Bud demanded in alarm. He reached towards the clipboard and looked down at it. “The shack is hereby signed over to… Suck a lemon little man?!” His eyes shot up and he glowered at Mabel.

“Baha! Your face!” She shook her head, gray hair falling over her shoulders. “Honestly, did you think that would work?”

“How dare you!” Bud screeched.

“How dare she?” Stan demanded he stepped forward as much as Mabel’s secure grip would allow. “Get off our land. Now!” He jerked forward and Bud leapt back with a yelp. Stan laughed victoriously as Bud and the fake prize man ran away.

“That wouldn’t have worked anyway, right Graunty?” Ford asked. He was smiling but looked a little worried. “I mean, you can’t just sign over a deed like that.”

“Not in most of the US. But Gravity Falls has weird laws.” She smiled but her expression was sad. “As long as you have possession of the deed you own the property.” Her eyes grew distant as she spoke and Stan was pretty sure she was reliving some memory. She seemed to shake it off after a moment and smiled. She released her grip on Stan and gave Ford a pat. “Don’t you two worry about it. I have the deed safely locked away.”

She started to walk away before stopping and turning back. She stepped back down and stood in front of Stanley. She had her hands on her hips and raised one of them to poke at Stan’s chest. He flinched and he was fairly certain Mabel noticed this time.

“And as for you,” she tapped his chest. He looked down at the finger and she raised it to catch his chin gently between her thumb and pointer finger. “No dessert tonight. Don’t run off without letting someone know. Please.” She spoke softly and released him. She stepped back and went to the door.

Ford waited awkwardly on the porch. Stan ignored him until he went inside. Safely alone he turned the flashlight on and aimed it at himself for a fraction of a second. That should be enough.

He grabbed the ripped up check and crumpled it up for an excuse of why he’d been delayed. He got to the top of the porch stairs and almost knocked the glass of lemonade over in spite. He wasn’t sure why. He didn’t like being teased-especially not by Ford, and he really didn’t like flinching. Not when others could see. Especially not Mabel. She’d poked him a lot but never came close to hitting him.

He left it on the porch and went inside. Ford was sitting at the dining room table chopping up a pepper while Mabel was rolling out dough. Pizza for dinner. Cool.

He dropped the crumpled paper in the trash and went to get the cans out of the pantry for the tomato sauce. He typically struggled a little to get them but the extra millimeter seemed to help.

“The stools under the- wait a minute.” Mabel went to him and tilted her head. “I know you don’t like to use my stool but you’ve always-“ She put her hand on his head and considered him. “Did you grow?”

He feigned surprise. “Huh?”

Ford got up and came over to him. He put his hand flat on Stan’s head brought it to his own head. They matched. He huffed.

“Musta been a growth spurt.” Stan said with a grin. 

“Perhaps, but mine happened first. I'm going to be taller in the end. It's science, Stanley.” Ford smiled self confidently and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“What? But-”

“Just wait, Stanley,” Ford said with a good natured laugh. “I’ll be the alpha-twin yet.”

“Not if I can help it.” He dumped the cans of tomato on the counter and ran from the room. He ran up the stairs and shut the door to their attic room. He pulled the flashlight back out of his pocket and hit himself again. A little longer this time. The door burst open and he had just enough time to hide the flashlight behind his back before Ford was coming in the room. 

“Stanley?” He called with a worried frown. “I’m so-” he stopped mid sentence and midstep when he saw Stan. “What did you do? How did you grow so much taller?” His eyes landed on the bed behind Stanley and narrowed. He had left the journal there. Oops.

“What did you do? Was it the crystals?” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and moved towards Stan. Stan, feeling panicked, ducked around Ford and ran down the stairs.

“No running inside!” Graunty Mabel called from the kitchen. Stan ignored her and went outside with Ford hot on his heels. He made it about twenty feet before Ford tackled him from behind. It was a bad tackle because Ford would never remember to wrap his arms around the person he was tackling. Stan rolled free and shot up. He accidentally hit the button on the flashlight and a beam of light shot out. It missed both the twins and hit a fly. The fly grew into a giant monstrosity that made Stan yelp. He quickly flipped the gem and shone the light again, shrinking the bug.

“Aha!” Ford cried. He reached for the flashlight but Stan was quicker. He stepped back and away from his brother’s hands. “Come on, man! Let me see.”

“No! It’s mine!” He raised it up over his head and put his new extra inches to use. Ford reached up pointlessly. He then grabbed Stan by his shoulders and started to climb up on him. Stan tipped over and they both fell to the ground. He lost his grip on the flashlight and it rolled away from them. Stan grabbed Ford in a headlock to stop him from reaching the flashlight. His brother had taken boxing classes with him and had never learned anything.

“What’s this?”

Both twins froze in the middle of their tussle. Stan craned his neck up and saw Bud Gleeful bending down to pick up the flashlight. The direness of their straight instantly hit Stan. He released Ford and scrambled to his feet. Bud stood upright as well, the flashlight in his hand.

“What are you doing back here?” Stan demanded. Ford was struggling to his feet and Stan offered him a hand.

“I came to threaten your great aunt.” He rubbed at his neck absentmindedly as he spoke. He turned the flashlight over in his hand and Stan started to panic.

“Give that back! It’s mine!”

“Is it?” Bud asked nonchalantly. He pressed the button on the flashlight and the grass around him grew dramatically. He gasped and raised his free hand to cover his mouth. “Isn’t that something?”

“Give. It. Back.” Stan ordered. He put his hands on his hips and tried to make himself look as big as possible. He tried to stand in front of Ford but his brother moved aside so he could see more clearly.

“No.” Bud said slowly, he was still looking at the flashlight. “No, I don’t think I will.” He tugged on the yarn that flipped the gem and pressed the button again. The grass around him shrank. Now they were in trouble.

Stan charged forward with a grunt and aimed for Bud. He opened his arms to tackle the boy and was hit with a bright light as he collided with a screeching Bud.

He felt himself falling through the air and screamed. He grabbed out for the blur of green beneath him and caught something that was strangely slippery. He slowed his descent to the ground.

He’d been shrunk!

“Stan!” Ford’s voice called behind him. He turned on his heel in the dirt and saw his brother walking towards him. He’d been shrunk as well. He reached out for Ford. They grabbed hands and the ground shook beneath them. They both fell to the dirt from the force of it. A giant shape smashed to the ground in front of them, narrowly avoiding Ford’s legs. It took Stan a few seconds to realize it was a shoe. Bud’s shoe.

He followed the shoe, went up the pant leg, up the suit jacket, and saw Bud’s enormous face. He was taller than the empire state building. It was like staring up at lady liberty, and Bud was a short person.

“Well, well. Looks like I got myself a pair of twins.” Bud’s giant hand came towards them and caught them by their shirts before they could run away. They were hefted into the air. Higher than Stan had ever been. The world spun around him and he felt his stomach turn violently. He clenched his eyes shut but that made everything worse. He started to shake with fear and couldn’t stop the trembles. He couldn’t move his arms or legs. He was just stuck there. Ford felt no such fear. He was protesting, loudly. Stan couldn’t make out the words through his panic.

The next thing he knew they were being dropped into a jar. They landed in the bottom of it with a jarring thud. Their limbs tangled together. Stan got Ford’s knee in his mouth and he was pretty sure his foot was in Ford’s ear. He rolled over to his side and pressed his sweaty hands against the glass beneath him.

The bottom of the jar was clear and he could still see the hundreds of feet between him and the ground.

“You won’t get away with this, Gleeful!” Ford shouted. Stan couldn’t move. His eyes were locked on the ground. It was so far away.

The jar lid was twisted in place. Ford banged at the glass and Stan had to close his eyes. The jar would break, they would fall, and then they would die. They were jostled as Bud started to walk and he had to clench his jaw to keep from vomiting. The world was still spinning even when his eyes were closed. He still couldn’t move. His heart felt like it was beating erratically in his chest and he couldn’t get his breath.

“Stan!” Ford dropped to the ground beside him and placed a hand on his back. Stan opened his eyes for a fraction of a second and he saw the ground so far away again. He closed his eyes and felt tears slipping down his cheeks. It made everything so much worse.

“Stan.” Ford murmured his name this time. He took Stan’s left hand in his right one and tried to lift it. Stan’s limbs were locked in place and he couldn’t move them. “Stan, I’m going to try and get you sitting. I don’t need you to help if you can’t. I just want you to know what I’m doing. I’ll, uh, I’ll try and get you flipped around so you can see the ceiling. It’ll make things easier if you can only see that.” Ford got hold of both his hands and hauled him up right. Stan couldn’t move to assist him but he also couldn’t stop him. Once he had him kneeling on his knees Ford tugged him backwards. He moved around so that he was behind Stan and he tugged him backwards until he had his back to Ford’s chest. Ford wrapped his arms around Stan’s middle and gave him a tight hug.

“Don’t worry. I got you. We’ll get out of this.” There was a pause and Ford maneuvered him so he was sitting. They were still back to chest. He could feel Ford’s chest expanding with every breath and he tried to focus on that soothing rhythm. This is how they fell asleep whenever one of them had a really bad nightmare or they’d had a particularly bad day. Usually with a bully. The affected twin would lie in the front with the other twin in the back for support.

He kept his eyes closed and focused on the steady rhythm of breathing. The fear didn’t go away but it diminished enough that he felt his limbs loosen.

Bud walked for what felt like hours until they finally reached his house. Bud then made his way into his bedroom and shut the door. Stan opened his eyes at this point and promptly felt nauseous for an entirely different reason.

Bud had built a wall of memories. There were pictures of both of them from the week and a half they’d hung out. Pictures of Ford and Stan hanging out around town that had clearly been snapped from a few yards away. Some of Stan and Mable, a few of their birthday party, and one during Pioneer day when he’d high-sixed Ford. There were other things as well. A few stickers Mabel had given him that had disappeared. A few locks of brown hair that he was certain would be his. The Mabel and Ford had been scribbled over with a marker in any picture they were in. One picture that showed Stan laughing had Susan in it. She had been scratched sloppily with a pair of scissors.

“Hot Belgian Waffles.” Ford managed after a moment. Stan couldn’t speak at all. They were carried to Bud’s desk/makeup stand and deposited on it. There was a little model of the mystery shack with four dolls. A Mabel, Ford, Stan, and Bud. The Stan and Bud had been put next to each other and were holding hands.

“Well this is the worst thing I’ve ever seen.” Stan said. “And I once saw a pelican eating another pelican.”

“We need to get out of here. Pronto.” Ford replied. The lid started to turn and they grabbed hands and stood up. Bud’s huge hand reached into the jar and grabbed them both. They were heaved into the air and Stan had to close his eyes once again. Ford squeezed his hand tightly.

“What are you going to do with us?” Ford demanded. Stan felt helpless and he hated that feeling more than anything. He sucked in as much air as he could managed and forced his eyes open. Bud was staring at them with a terrible smile. Stan couldn’t stop himself from trembling. They were  _ so _ high up. Everything looked so far away.

Bud’s free hand came up and caught hold of Stanley. He was torn away from Ford and brought to the desk.

“I’m sorry, Stanley. I forgot about your… problem… with heights.” Bud smiled in what he clearly thought was a cute manner. Stan got his feet under himself and stood up. If Bud’s hand came near him again he was going to punch it. Ford was still dangling in the middle of the air but he didn’t look scared. He looked angry.

“Let us go!” He bellowed. He imagined it probably sounded squeaky to Bud’s ears.

“Why Stanley, don’t worry.” The big hand came back towards him. He swung wildly and missed. A finger extended and rubbed the top of his head. “I wouldn’t harm a hair on your handsome head. I’ll even let you go if you agree to be mine.”

“Not gonna happen you big haired hooligan.” He shrieked. The hand was drawn back sharply and came slamming down on the desk next to Stan. The force of it knocked him to his butt. Ford cried out in alarm and that got Stan immediately back up.

“You are supposed to be mine!” Bud growled. He grabbed Stan by the shirt, again, and lifted him up. He moved his hand to the other side of the desk and placed Stan on top of the lamp. It was barely as wide as he was and far too high up for his comfort. Stan promptly dropped to all fours and wrapped his arms around the thin neck of the lamp.

Bud placed Ford on the desktop and tilted the lamp to shine on him. Stan was moved through the air with the motion and tightened his grip on the lamp until his joints were popping. It came to a jarring stop and then was twisted. He nearly lost his grip but managed to stay on.

“You.” Bud said darkly. His giant eyes were fixed on Ford. “Tell me,” he leaned closer and dropped his fist next to Ford. The hand blocked off his only escape. “How exactly did you come upon this magical item? Hmm?” It was a snarl more than a hum of curiosity. “Did somebody tell you about it? Did you  _ read _ about it somewhere?” Stan watched as his brother’s hand hovered over the secret pocket nervously.

“I already told ya!” Stan called out with what air he could find. He shut his eyes so he didn’t have to see how far from the ground he was. He had faced a sea monster. He could handle being this high. He could do it. He swallowed and spoke through the lump of fear in his throat. “I’m the one that made it!”

“Stanley,” An oversized finger dropped on top of his head and ran down the length of his back. He felt sick. “Oh, Stanley. You’re my Gummy Bear, and I adore the way your mind works,” the finger pet down his body again, “but we know it wasn’t you that thought this thing up. No. Stanford has that particular brand of brilliance.”

Somehow-despite how much he hated Bud- that hurt. Even Bud, who thought Stan was the coolest and worth going entirely insane over, didn’t think he was smart enough to make something as simple as a flashlight with a gem attached.

“Hey!” Ford suddenly shouted, “You warthog-faced buffoon!” Bud’s hand withdrew from Stan’s head and slammed onto the desk. It sent vibrations through every surface. Ford managed to keep his balance and glared up fiercely at Bud. The giant bully got close to Ford and opened his mouth to say something. He didn’t get a chance before Ford was throwing himself at the airhorn on the desk beside him. A horribly loud noise filled the air and Bud was reeling back in shock. His hands flew to his ears. Stan would have shot his fist in the air in victory if he hadn’t been so afraid of falling.

“AAAH!” Bud screamed. He hit the lamp out of the way. Stan went hurtling through the air and very nearly lost his grip. Tears filled his eyes so that he couldn’t see clearly. He furiously blinked them away and craned his head to see what was happening to Ford.

“I COULD CRUSH YOU RIGHT NOW!” Bud bellowed. His hand hovered over Ford’s head who simply glowered back at him.

“Wait,” Bud inhaled sharply and drew his hands back. “Wait, Bud. You can use them. You can… use them.”

He stood up and stepped away from the desk. He picked up a phone from the table and dialed a few random numbers Stan couldn’t see. He then brought it to his ear. Ford took the opportunity to move closer to the lamp. He maneuvered himself so he was underneath Stan. He started rummaging in his pocket for something.

“Mabel Pines, this is Bud Gleeful. Listen to me very carefully. I have your nephews. Hand over the deed to the Mystery Shack right now, or great harm will befall them!” Ford looked up from his pocket while Stan tried, and failed, to lift his own head.

“I have them in my possession!” Bud insisted after a moment. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll text you a photo!” There was another pause as Mabel said something then Bud was yelling again as he hurled the phone at the wall. It flew past the twins and smashed into pieces as it hit the wall. He got off the bed and hurled himself at the desk only to stop a few feet away.

“Wait,” He said. He laughed, slowly and methodically. The chuckles grew louder and quicker until they were utterly maniacal. “What am I doing?” He finally asked. “I don’t need a ransom. I have this!” He lifted the flashlight up and waved it through the air. “I can shrink her and take the Shack.” He spun wildly towards the twins. He grabbed the dolls of Stan and Ford and clenched them in his face. “You can’t stop me. If you step out of line-“ He grabbed the heads off the two dolls and dropped their remains onto the desk.

“Bud!” Gideon called from the other room, “Come out! The ice cream truck is here. Go get me a pint!”

“Oh!” Bud called cheerfully, “Coming!” He started towards the door before stopping. He turned back towards the twins and grabbed something up from the floor by the desk. A hamster the size of a bear was set down near Ford. “Guard them, Cheekums.” He rushed out of the room and shut the door behind himself.

* * *

Ford stared suspiciously at the hamster. He knew they were omnivores but he wasn’t certain what sort of meat they’d eat. He knew insects could play a part of their diet but most domesticated hamsters were stuck on a vegetarian diet. He didn’t think ‘Cheekums’ would eat him but he didn’t want to test the animal. He stood still for a moment and watched. Cheekums made no moves so he enacted his plan. Stan was frozen on the lamp above his head. He knew enough about his brother’s fear of heights to know that he was immobilized. He hated Bud all the more for making him endure so many terrifying heights in one day. Stan was loud and confident. He should never be made small and frightened. And it just seemed like so many people were determined to beat his confidence and vibrancy out of him. Ford would fight them all for Stan. Stan’s worth was a hill he’d die on any day. His brother wasn’t academically inclined, but he was brilliant in so many other ways. He hated that other people just couldn’t see that. 

He pulled the grappling hook from his pocket and launched it at the lamp head. It caught hold easily enough and Ford was able to pull himself up to Stanley. He laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder and winced when it caused him to jump. He wanted to hit Bud and Ford never wanted to hit people. 

“Stan?” His brother’s eyes opened and looked relieved to see Ford hanging beside him. 

“H-hi, Sixer.” Stan managed around a pained smile. “How ya doin’?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” He extended his free hand towards Stan and grabbed one of the arms he had wrapped around the lamp. “Can you grab onto me? I want to get us down.” 

“I’m not sure.” Stan laughed deprecatingly. “I can’t seem to move any of my muscles.”

“Well, how about you let me move them?” Stan didn’t say anything in reply. Ford took that as a ‘go ahead’ and tugged Stan’s arm free. His brother sucked in a shuddering breath but didn’t stop him. He slung the free arm around his shoulder and shoved Stan’s left leg off the lamp. He was now hanging on only with his left arm. He had an exceptionally tight grip.

He considered the dilemma for a moment before shrugging. He reached for Stanley’s side with his right hand and wrapped his left arm securely around Stan. He held the grappling hook in his left hand as well. Being ambidextrous had its perks. When his right hand found Stanley’s side, he tickled the skin there. Stan let out a shriek of laughter and loosened his hold. Ford forced the arm free and Stan fell off the lamp. Ford caught his left arm and pulled him to his chest. Stan wrapped him up close and Ford brought them down.

They landed on the desktop and Ford retracted his grappling hook. He held Stan for a moment longer so he could gather himself. 

“Thanks, Sixer.” Stan mumbled into his neck. Ford pat his back without saying anything for a moment.

“We, uh, have to get back to the Mystery Shack.” Stan nodded and released Ford. He self-consciously rubbed at his eyes. Ford pretended not to see. Pines men didn’t cry, after all. 

They used the grappling hook to get off the desk. Stan spotted a racecar which they used to get out of the bed room. Stan navigated them through the house without any trouble. He’d been there often enough to know the layout. Neither of them said anything but they were both glad to leave the bedroom and it’s shrine to Stan.

They spotted Bud by the door. He was talking to Gideon who was muttering something in an annoyed tone. Bud looked irritated as well. Neither of them noticed the tiny twins approaching. 

“We’ll have to hitch a ride on him.” Ford whispered to Stan. His twin nodded in reply. They reached the giant child quietly. Stan jumped up and caught hold of his pants leg. He extended a hand to Ford who scrambled up as well. They hid themselves in the fold of his smelly sock. 

“Goodbye.” Bud bit out. He turned on his heel and strode out, entirely unaware that the twins were with him.

The fake psychic climbed onto the Gravity Falls bus and headed towards the Mystery Shack. He got off with the twins and headed up the steps. Ford clambered up his body while he walked. Stanley elected to stay on the sock. He did maneuver himself to the front of Bud’s shoe. 

“Mabel!” Bud called cheerfully. “Come out, come out wherever you are!” He pushed a door open and promptly stopped. There were more than a dozen figures piled in. Ford had reached the top of Bud’s suit coat and found himself confused by what he saw. There were historical and fictional figures everywhere. A few were easy to recognize, like Abraham Lincoln, William Shakespeare, Sherlock Holmes, and Robin Hood. A few took a bit more time to figure out. 

“Mabel?” Bud called out uncertainty. “Are you hiding in here?”

“Hey kiddo.” Mabel’s voice came from somewhere in the room. “Didn’t I tell you to leave?”

“Come back here, old woman!”

“In your dreams!” Mabel sang back cheerfully.

“Get back here!” There was a crashing noise and then a yelp from Mabel.

“Hey, watch the statues! I just got them!” She exclaimed.

Ford made it to the bottom of the sleeve and crawled out. Mabel was coming out from behind a broken Abraham Lincoln. She had her hands on her hips and a furious frown. He was still a dozen or more yards away from the gem. Err, inches. Either way, it was too far to make before Bud realized he was there. Nope. He’d go for the other end. He dropped to the butt of the flashlight. And turned himself so he was facing to the right. Then, making sure his feet were on the screwed on end, he started to run. The butt of the flashlight twisted beneath his feet and started to come unscrewed. The ground became unstable but he kept going. After a few seconds of running furiously, the bottom began to fall, and with it, the batteries. Ford lunged for Gideon’s suit coat and got caught of his cuff link. He held on for dear life and thanked God that he had been made to take PE so often. The rope days were finally paying off.

Bud pressed the button on the flashlight to no avail.

“What is that?” Mabel asked curiously. Bud made a furious noise and tossed the flashlight to the ground. He dove towards Mabel with an irritated grunt and stretched out his hands.

Bud promptly fell flat on his face. Ford lost his grip on the cufflink and hit the ground as well. He got up stiffly and ran towards the flashlight. Stan joined him at it a minute later.

“Hey, Sixer!” Stan panted. He looked extremely proud. “I tied his shoes together. Dummy didn’t even notice. Come on. Let’s get this out of here.” They drug the flashlight towards Lizzie Borden. She was the only one with a full skirt and that looked easiest to hide under.

Mabel shoved Bud with her foot while they weren’t looking. “Wendy! Fiddleford!” She yelled. “Come and help me get Bud out.” The sound of footsteps echoed around the shack followed by the two employees.

“Ew.” Wendy said with a disgusted frown. “What’s he doing here?” She grabbed one of his arms while Fiddleford grabbed the other. They hoisted him up in the air. Bud kicked his feet out as much as he could with them tied together.

“How dare you! Unhand me you fiends!”

“Can it.” Mabel ordered. “I could have you arrested for trespassing.” She looked at Fiddleford and Wendy. “Can you take him outside for me?” They nodded and left the room. Bud was shrieking that he’d get revenge on the entire Pine clan.

Stan snuck out from under the dress and grabbed the batteries. He dragged them back to the skirt and passed them to Ford. He ran back out and fetched the end of the flashlight.

“Good thinking with the batteries, Sixer.” Stan said as he passed him the end. Ford screwed it back on with a bashful smile. He loved it whenever Stan praised his ideas. He got a lot recognition for knowing facts and equations. He rarely got recognized for originality. That was Stan’s area.

“Okay,” he said with a smile. They’d shoved the flashlight out from under Lizzy Borden when they were certain the room was empty. “You first.” Stan moved to the front of the flashlight and held up his hands.

“Wait, you’re going to grow us back to the same height, right?”

“Why does that matter so much to you? It’s a millimeter! You can’t even notice it.” Ford huffed. Stan stepped away from the flashlight beam.

“I notice it. Mabel noticed it. You noticed it. Even Soos noticed it.” He stuffed his hands in the pocket of his shorts and looked at the ground. He slumped his shoulders and kicked at the hard woods. Stan didn’t shrink in on himself. He tended to grow bigger instead. He’d take up all the space allotted to him and then some. Ford was the one that shrank. Typically.

This must be a really big deal to Stan. Why?

“No, seriously, why is this so important to you?” He stepped away from the button but kept his eyes on the door.

“It’s just…” Stan trailed off and clenched his jaw. Ford moved so he was in front of his brother. He watched as Stan sorted through his thoughts. Finally his brother raised his eyes to meet Ford. “It’s just that you’re so much better at  _ everything _ . School, games, money- even inventions. Size and strength are the only things I’ve ever had. If I lose that.” He stopped abruptly and dropped his eyes again.

“Lee,” Ford murmured mournfully. He hadn’t used that nickname since they were in elementary school. He hadn’t realized he’d hurt his twin. He always saw Stan as being so much larger than life, that he forgot Stan didn’t see himself that way. “I’m real sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s not true you know. You have lots of things you’re better at than me. You can hold a conversation with anyone. You don’t even have to think about what to say. You can go up to a random person on the street and convince them to do anything. You’re smart too!”

Stan shook his head and opened his mouth to interrupt but Ford didn’t let him.

“No, you are! You might not be academically inclined but you have so much more street smarts than I do. I’ve always been far too trusting and gullible. I’ve been conned countless times at the beach. I would have been kidnapped by now if it wasn’t for you.” Ford had a tendency to believe what strangers said as a child. Stan was born a skeptic. He’d drag Ford away any time a random person came up to offer them something or ask them for help.  _ What’s he need a kid’s help for, Sixer? _ Stan would ask. Ford would see the logic in that statement and feel like a moron.

“Ya gotta be more suspicious, Sixer.” Stan said with a bit of a smile.

“Plus, a millimeter will hardly make me the alpha-twin physically. You’ll always have a better punch than me.”

“Thanks.” Stan said quietly. His eyes were sincere and vulnerable. Ford was the only one that got to see him that way. It was humbling and thrilling. He’d earned the right to see Stan like that and he would never betray that trust.

“Come on. Let’s get back to our normal size.” He went back to the flashlight. Stan stood in the beam. Ford pressed the button for the appropriate length of time and then let go. A proper sized Stan stood in front of him. He bent down and picked up the flashlight. He turned it on Ford and pressed the button. A moment later and they were tall again.

“Thank god.” Ford breathed in relief. Stan was considering the flashlight in his hand.

“We should hide this somewhere Bud can’t find it. It might be useful if we run into a giant stack of gnomes again.”

“Great idea!” Ford said. Stan smiled at him and held his hand up in the air.

“High six?”

“High six!” He slapped his hand against Stan’s. It was much nicer than high fiving Mabel. She high-sixed  _ hard. _

“Let’s get out of here.” Stan said after their high-six. “These guys are giving me the willies.”

They were a little creepy. The twins left the room and shut the door behind them. They could have sworn they heard something moving inside. They shared a look and Ford locked the door. They’d investigate that some other day.

“Hey,” Stan said suddenly with a tug on Ford’s arm. Ford stopped walking and face his twin. Stan’s eyes were large and surprised. Ford felt a smile tugging his lips up as he looked at Stan. He watched his brother work through his realization. Finally he spoke. “We’re the same height again, aren’t we?”

He clapped Stan’s upper arm. “Yep. We’re the same.” He started walking again and waited until Stan was by his side. “Though I’ll still probably be taller.” He winked at Stan. “It’s science.”

Stan punched him in the arm and Ford laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm attempting to give the hint that Bud might be watching the town with his surveillance equipment. ;) That's the reason he knew about what Stan had been up to last chapter. It's also how he got so many pictures of him for this chapter. Also, Stan's experience with the heights is entirely written from my own experience. I have a severe fear of heights and the worst part of it is always the paralysis that comes. Nothing is worse than locked limbs and trembling when you're in a high place. It makes you feel all the more like your going to fall off the edge. It is not a fun fear.


	9. Summerween: This is Loser Candy!

Today was officially ‘Summerween’ and the Pines household was excited. Stan and Ford had never heard of the town holiday before. He had originally thought Graunty Mabel was making it up but it he was pleased that it was very real.

They spent the morning raiding the Summerween Superstore for supplies with Fiddleford and Graunty Mabel.

Stan had vastly underestimated how much Mabel liked anything that vaguely resembled a party. They had each been allowed to invite someone over to hang out after they went trick or treating. Stan had gone for Susan while Ford went for Soos. Fiddleford and Wendy had been invited over as well. Mabel had mentioned that her friend Candy would probably come too.

They were going to go trick or treating first. Stan was excited. One, he loved candy; two, he loved costumes; three, he loved scaring people. Halloween was the only day he could really combine the three.

“We are going to get so much candy this year!” Ford declared with a cackle. He was sorting the candy Mabel bought into different bowls. One would be for any trick or treaters, the other would be for their post trick or treating hangout.

“If I’m not passed out with a stomach ache tonight I will not be happy.” Stan added. He grabbed a piece of candy from the pile and tore it open. He popped it in his mouth and promptly started to gag. He spat the bar out and looked at the wrapping he’d ripped. ‘Mr. Adequate Bar.’ It was not at all adequate.

“What is it?” Ford asked. Fiddleford walked in the room with an armful of watermelon. He promptly set them on the table and took the seat next to Ford. Stan watched his twin grow a bright red and suppressed a grin.

“This is a terrible piece of candy.” He said with a slight gag. He tossed the candy and wrapper in the trash. He reached for the bowl and started rummaging through it. “What is this stuff? I've never even heard of these brands.” He pulled a handful out and read them out loud. “Sand Pop? Gummy chairs? Gelatin Product? Count Discount?” He held up the last bar and turned it towards Ford. “Homework: The Candy?” He tossed it to his brother. “Clearly meant for you.”

Ford caught it and stuck his tongue out. Fiddleford laughed and Ford’s blush turned darker. Stan barely managed to school his expression.

“It’s all cheapo loser candy.” He declared with a frown. “Give the nasty stuff to the trick or treaters and leave the good stuff for us.”

“Careful whatcha say.” Fiddleford warned around a good natured laugh. “The Summerween Trickster might hear ya and get mad.”

Stan laughed. “The Summerween what?” It sounded ridiculous. “They made up the holiday and made a monster to go with it?”

“Well,” Fiddleford set his carving tools aside, “the legends say that the Trickster goes door to door and eats children who lack the Summerween Spirit.” He wiggled his fingers towards Stan who stood up with a laugh.

“Well we got plenty of spirit.” He promised. He reached into the bowl for the trick or treaters and grabbed out all the ‘Mr. Adequate’ Bars he could see. Trickster or not, he wouldn’t hand that out to anyone. Maybe Bud. Crampelter too. Probably Preston Northwest. Okay. He wouldn’t give it to anyone he liked or was indifferent too. He went to the open window and tossed the bars outside. Let the wild animals have it.

A doorbell echoed through the house.

“Trick or treaters!” Mabel called excitedly from the kitchen. She was making enough food to feed twenty. “Someone give ‘em some candy!”

Ford got up and grabbed the bowl. Fiddleford followed him with the freshly carved melon. A few minutes passed by. Stan started working on putting the makeup for his costume on. He needed to make his entire face, neck, and hands green so he needed more of a head start than Ford.

Mabel came in after a while and helped him paint in a few fake scars and stitches. She gelled his hair back and laughed when he lifted his arms and mimed coming at her like Frankenstein monster.

“I should have had Fiddleford make your bolts.” She said after a few minutes of fiddling with his fake bolts. “He could have made them spark and everything. It would be fantastic.”

“Maybe he can still make some. I could use them for Halloween.” He smiled at Mabel only to see her smile completely drop. Her brown eyes grew damp but she blinked the moisture away. He frowned in confusion. He was missing something.

“Yeah. Halloween. Not too far off, is it?” She smoothed out his jacket and stepped back. She wrapped her arms around herself and pretended to be interested in his outfit. Stan didn’t buy the act.

“It’s what? Four and a half months away?” He said to the air. “Not really close. We have to get through summer first.” He shrugged and saw Mabel look glummer. He hated that. Mabel was not the sort of person who was supposed to look sad. Her bright and bubbly self was only meant to be bright and bubbly. It was painful when she wasn’t.

“Yeah. Summer.” She sighed and shook her head. She seemed to force whatever was wrong away and smiled. “Okay you. I think you’re ready now. Remember, don’t bend those knees.” She winked and took a few steps away from him. “Alright, come at me.”

He walked towards her with his arms out in front of him stiffly. She gave her head an approving nod and laughed. “Come here, Gumball.” He’d never heard that nickname but he didn’t mind it. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a tight hug. She was careful not to mess up his makeup. She released him and stepped away. He saw her wipe at her eyes but didn’t mention it.

“Where’s Ford?” I want to get a picture of you two together.” Stan shrugged. He hadn’t heard from Ford or Fiddleford since they went to the door. He was probably getting into his costume.

The doorbell rang loudly. Mabel gave him a little push. “Go get that, please. I need to get in my own costume.”

He went to answer the door and found Susan and Soos standing there. Susan was dressed like a kitten while Soos was dressed like a Mexican wrestler with a cape. Susan had given herself a pink nose and had formed her brown hair into ear shapes.

“Hi Susan.” He said a little shyly. He smiled broadly as she blushed.

“Hi, Stan.”

“Come on in, guys.” He pulled the door open more widely and swept his arm to the side. Susan led the way. Soos shut the door when Stan forgot it.

“Cool, dude, you’re Frankenstein, right?”

“Technically I’m the monster.” Stan said after a moment. He had to force himself to focus on the question. Susan’s smile was making his chest feel funny again. He wondered if that ever stopped.

“Huh?” Susan asked. Stan smiled again. Ford had drilled that into his head years ago. They would pick out a book together and then Ford would read it out loud before they went to bed. Stan didn’t read well without glasses. It gave him a headache. They always picked action books. Usually science fiction or horror. Occasionally they’d add in a pirate book. Ford had picked out Frankenstein a few years ago. Stan had been shocked to learn that Frankenstein wasn’t the monster’s name.

“Frankenstein isn’t the name of the monster. Frankenstein is the name of the doctor who made the monster.” Stan replied.

“Most would say that Frankenstein was a monster though. Just not an undead one.” Ford’s voice came from the stairway. He was coming down with his hands buried in his trench coat pockets. His trench coat that was not part of his costume.

“Hey!” Stan demanded. He turned to face Ford and put his hands on his hips. “What gives? Where’s your costume?”

“I, uh,” he stuttered a little and flushed under their gazes. “I’m not feeling well. I don’t think I’ll be able to go trick or treating with you.”

Stan’s mouth popped open in shock. “What?” He grabbed the top of the banister and looked up at Ford who was coming down. “When did this happen?” It had only been a half hour or so since he’d seen Ford. Maybe closer to an hour. It wasn’t anywhere near enough time to get sick.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was that loser candy.” He shrugged and came down to the landing. Susan and Soos moved to make more room for him.

“What? The homework candy? Fight through it, Poindexter. We got houses to get to!” The doorbell rang and all of them turned to look at the door. Ford moved to answer it. He tugged it open enough to look through and tilted his head up. “Aren’t you a little old, Sir?” There was a pause and then: “Sorry.” He shut the door and turned back towards them.

“Why didn’t you give them the candy?” Stan questioned. He shook his head. That wasn’t important right now. “If you’re not feeling well, some fresh air would probably do ya good.” He reached forward to punch Ford’s arm but the door rang again. Ford opened it.

“I already told you, you’re too old.” He shut the door only for it to immediately ring again. Ford crossed his arms and shook his head. Stan moved past him and opened the door.

A tall figure in a long, dark, brown coat stood in front of him. He had some sort of hat on and a small mask. It was a great, creepy costume. He grabbed the bowl of loser candy and held it in front of himself.

“Here you go, man. I like the-“ His sentence got cut off abruptly as the man stood straight.

“SILENCE!” He shouted with a deep and raspy voice. “You have insulted me! For this you must pay... with your  _ lives. _ ” He hissed the last word and leaned toward Stan. Stan laughed.

“Now that’s some Summerween spirit.” He looked over his shoulder at his sulking twin. “Ford, you could learn from this joker.”

“Joker am I?” The man pushed his way into the shack and glared down at them.

“Trick or treat!” Gorney approached the wide open door and held up a small bucket. He was dressed as a pirate.

“Hey, Gorney-“ The man reached down and picked Gorney up by his shirt. He brought him up into the air and over his head. He then released him. Gorney fell right into the man’s suddenly enormous mouth. All four of the kids shouted.

Gorney! He’d been on their team for the birthday paint ball! He’d dressed up as a pirate and was just looking for some candy!

The masked thing rounded on them. “There is only one way for you to avoid this fate!” He knelt towards them and poked Susan in the stomach. She screeched and latched onto Stan’s arm. Normally that would have excited him. He couldn’t even notice it. He couldn’t notice anything. That creature had just eaten a child.

The monster straightened. “I need a treat.” He slowly tilted his head towards Ford. “If you can collect 500 pieces of candy,” the head turned towards Stan and Susan, “and bring it to me,” He turned towards Soos and picked up the jack-o-melon Fiddleford had carved, “before the last jack-o-melon goes out…” he blew out the melon and set it down. “I will let you live.”

“Five hundred treats?” Ford demanded. Stan wasn’t sure how his brother could even talk. “That’s not possible. Not in one night.”

“The choice is yours, children. You can either trick or treat, or die!” He cackled the last word and slunk out the still open door. It banged shut after him leaving the entryway in silence.

“What was that thing?” Stan finally asked. Soos immediately responded.

“It was the Summerween trickster!”

“What? That thing Fiddleford was talking ‘bout?”

Soos nodded his head. “The legends are true!”

Susan grabbed a hold of Soos and shook him. “What do we do? What do we do?!”

“Trick or treat!” Stan exclaimed a little hysterically. That thing had eaten Gorney right in front of them. Could they save him if they got the treats?

“But I-“ Ford started. Stan didn’t let him finish. He grabbed Ford by the trench coat and gave him a little shake.

“We. Are. Trick. Or. Treating.” He released Ford and grabbed their buckets off the ground. “Come on,” he said to Soos. “We need to get the wagon from out back. These buckets won’t be big enough for that much candy.”

* * *

Ford refused to get into his costume. He barely agreed to come on the expedition. The group refused to hear a no. They had to get five hundred pieces of candy before the people decided it was too late for trick or treaters. It got dark around 9 pm here, so he was guessing that would be the deadline. Which gave them about two and a half hours. It would cut into their movie time but that was okay.

They went up to the first house and rang the doorbell. They all held up their baskets and waited for the door to open. It did a moment later. Tyler Cutebiker stood in front of them.

“Ooh!” He gushed and clasped his hands together. “Trick or treaters! And look at you all in costume-what happened with you?” He pointed at Ford.

“I’m not in costume.” He answered blandly. Stan could have kicked him if he was closer.

“Oh.” Tyler said with a very pronounced frown. “I see.” He pulled out a small handful of candy and gave one piece to each of them before shutting the door.

“Four pieces?!” Stan exclaimed as soon as the door was shut. “There aren’t a hundred houses over here we can trick or treat at! We’re going to have to get more candy.” He grabbed a hold of his brother’s shoulders and looked at him. Ford was avoiding his eyes which was fine with Stan. He just needed Ford to hear. “You  _ have _ to put on your costume.” He could see Soos and Susan cowering by the wagon and it made his expression grow stern. “We have to pull the full force of the twin power.”

“But I-“

“Hmm.” A new voice spoke from above their heads. Stan twisted in front of Ford and glowered at the Trickster. He was sitting on the roof like a frog. His long legs were spindly and didn’t look like they should be able to lift him. “Is that so?” He scampered down the house in a move that was distinctly spiderlike. He crawled towards Soos and reached out for him. Stan stepped forward with the intention of putting himself between the monster and his friend. The Trickster was closer than him. He reached Soos and pulled the single piece of licorice he’d been given from his hands. He brought it under his nose and inhaled deeply.

“I’ve seen better.” He swooped down and lifted up the Jack-O-Melon that Tyler had on his porch. “Tick tock.” He blew the candle out and dropped the melon. It shattered on the ground in a mess of pink and green. The Trickster scrambled to the top of the house and disappeared.

Soos was shaking. Susan wrapped a comforting arm around him and looked like she was trying not to shake herself. Stan rounded on Ford.

“Costume.” He poked Ford in the chest. “Now!”

* * *

Ford came outside the mystery shack in his costume. He had a long, splattered lab coat, a suit in questionable condition, thick rubber lab gloves, safety goggles, and a collection of vials.

“I present, Doctor Frankenstein!” Stan declared. He was grinning and proud of their costumes. It had only cost them ten bucks for everything thanks to some serious thrift store searching. He was pretty sure it was their best costumes ever.

“That looks great!” Soos said. He was still trembling a little bit. Stan gave him a pat on the back.

“We need to go as fast as we can and turn the cuteness up to a ten. Do whatever it takes to make the adults think you’re adorable and worthy of their candy. Sing. Dance. Beg. Whatever it takes.”

Ford huffed with obvious annoyance. “Isn’t that a little demeaning?”

Stan elbowed Soos. “I don’t know ‘de- _ meaning _ ’ of that word!” He laughed at his own joke and earned a quiet laugh from Susan.

“Come on.” Ford sighed. “Let’s get this over as quickly as possible.”

* * *

Unsurprisingly to everyone but Ford, they instantly started to get more candy. They ran from house to house laughing and trying to out cute each other. One house saw their group dance and promptly dumped their entire bowl into their baskets. Stan kept track of the candy they had.

“We’re five pieces away!” He said after their thirtieth house. He looked at Susan who was prettily flushed from all their running. Some of her hair had broken loose from the ears she’d made and it was framing her face. He wanted to brush them back but wasn’t sure she’d be receptive. He kept his hands to himself and smiled instead. “Race you to the last house?” She took off without responding. Stan laughed and motioned for Soos to follow him. He took after Susan but couldn’t quite catch her.

Or he let her think that.

It was Tate McGucket’s house and he gave them three pieces each which gave them a few extra pieces of candy.

The relief was almost instantaneous. They’d done it. They’d gathered all the required candy in just under two and a half hours. They’d even done it all without a car. Suck it, Trickster thing.

They rounded the corner, laughing in relief and exhilaration to see Ford chatting with Wendy. She was in Robbie’s- her jerky boyfriend-crappy van.

“Right, see you at the party.” He waved his six fingered hand and smiled sheepishly. He was no longer in costume. More importantly, the candy was missing.

“What the hell, Ford?” Stanley demanded. He jogged up to his brother as the van drove away. “Where’s your costume? What party?” He sucked in a breath and realized what was going on. “Wait, is that why you didn’t want to hang out with us tonight and go trick or treating?” He took a step back from Ford. “You were going to abandon us to hang with Wendy and Robbie?” He couldn’t believe it. Why would Ford do that to him? If he wanted to go to a party he could have just said something. Unless he didn’t want Stanley to go.

“I-I.” Ford stuttered but didn’t say anything more. Stan, infuriated and hurt, flung the extra candy at his chest.

“You were!” He accused. “You were going to ditch us!” Had he even planned on letting Stan know? Or was he just going to disappear? What was going on with him?

“Where’s the candy?” Soos asked a little hesitantly.

“Relax.” Ford said, clearly grateful for the change of topic. He was an idiot if he thought Stan would let him off the hook that easily. “It’s right here behind this bush.” He reached towards the shrubbery and pulled it back. Stan looked over and promptly lost his breath. It was a straight drop into a creek. Their wagon was tilted on its side and all the candy was drifting away.

“Oh my god.” Susan whispered, her voice breaking. Stan couldn’t move. He could only stare as the candy drifted away.

“No!” Soos’ horrified shout drew their attention. He was pointing across the way where Toby Determined was getting ready to blow out his Jack o melon. The sun had set and the other houses were locking up for the night. There wasn’t another jack o melon in sight. Soos took off towards the house. Stan ran after him and passed him. He waved his hands in the air.

“Don’t, don’t blow it out!” He shouted the words as loudly as he could but it was no use. The man blew out the final Jack o melon. They were left on the dark street with nothing but six pieces of candy.

“Knock, knock.” The raspy, deep voice echoed around them on the empty street. Stan raised his fist defensively with a pounding heart. There was a blurry shape emerging from the shadows between the houses. He wouldn’t have been able to make it out clearly in decent light. He wasn’t even certain it was real in this dim light.

“Everybody get back.” He warned. No one moved. They all seemed rooted to their spots.

“So,” the Trickster drawled, “where is my candy?” He reached the sidewalk and started to stroll towards them. Stan stuck his arms out and shoved both Susan and Soos back. Ford was still twenty feet away. He could get there, but probably not as quickly as the monster. He was torn on what to do.

“We had it!” Ford gasped. “We had all five hundred pieces, I swear we did!” His voice broke on the last word. The Trickster didn’t seem to care. It continued to stalk towards Stan, Susan, and Soos.

“Ah, but it would seem I do not. So I’m afraid your lives are forfeit.” The creature grew larger before their eyes until it was blotting out the houses from view. Susan cowered behind Stan while Soos stood slightly to the right. Stan tried to shove him backwards but it was no use. He couldn’t budge him.

“Ford!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. “RUN!” He slipped on his bronze knuckles and raised both fists. He took on the fighter’s stance he’d been taught and readied himself for a swing. He’d only get one shot. He had to make it count.

The Trickster grew two extra arms and reached down for them. Stan swung with all his might at the arm nearest him. His fist connected with the limb and he felt something in it break. The creature made an angry hiss and brought it’s three other limbs towards him. He managed to hit two of them but the third caught him around the waist. He kept swinging. He could hear someone shouting his name along with the sound of pounding feet. Susan’s scream pierced the air followed by a grunt of fright from Soos.

They were all lifted into the air by the Trickster. Stan was squeezed tight by the hand around his chest. He couldn’t inhale and pain flared up in his chest. He’d had the wind knocked out of him several times, this was worse. He’d been kicked in the ribs a few times. That pain was far closer to this. The pain kept him focused on the monster and not being in the air. He clasped his hands together and brought them down hard on the hand that was holding him. A chunk of the monster fell off. The monster grunted in pain and hoisted Stan further up into the air. He got dizzy looking down and felt his limbs start to lock up.

There was a squeal of tires and a huge banging noise. The monster let out a pained scream and exploded. Stan went falling to the ground and landed in a painful heap. He struggled to his feet and wrapped his arm around his aching chest. Soos was popping up a few feet away. He staggered towards him and grabbed the boys arm. Stan hauled him upright with a pained wheeze. He craned his head around and saw what had collided with the monster. It was a truck. The color looked familiar but it was too dark for Stan to be able to make any real distinctions.

He pushed Soos towards it and turned around to see where everyone else was. Susan was running towards him with a slight limp. Her hair had come completely undone and her tail had fallen off at some point. He didn’t see Ford.

“Ford!” He instantly called out. His chest burned with the action but he didn’t care. “Ford!” There was a panicked, desperate edge to his voice. Susan reached him and caught his hand.

“He’s in the truck!” She dragged him with her. He tripped and nearly fell but she caught him. She reached the vehicle and jerked the door open. Ford was on the opposite side trying to help Soos into the vehicle. Fiddleford was in the driver’s seat. His eyes were huge and his knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel.

Stan shoved Susan into the passenger seat and clambered into the back seat. Ford climbed in as well. They all shut their doors.

“Seat belts!” Fiddleford screeched as he put the car in reverse. He sped back about twenty feet, switched the car into drive and took off down the dark street. He was going well over the speed limit for which Stan was grateful. Fiddleford was a born rule follower. It took effort to get him to break any rule.

“Are you okay?” Ford asked quietly. Stan slowly turned his head to look at Ford. Ford who didn’t have a single scratch on him. Ford who was not in his costume. Ford who was going to ditch him.

He couldn’t answer. Not right now. He knew enough to know his voice would betray him, one way or another. It would either show his anger or break and show he was scared. He turned his eyes back forward and kept his arm around his chest. He’d had worse hits. He’d be fine. They were alive. That’s what mattered. His eyes were stinging and he was pretty sure there was blood in his mouth, but they were alive.

“Dude,” Soos said, breaking the silence, “I am so glad to see you.”

“Yeah,” Fiddleford said shakily. “I was late heading to a party. Saw that thing get a hold of y’all and just gunned it.” He shrugged. “Probably not the best idea but it was all I had.”

Stan couldn’t move his head or blink. He felt Ford shift beside him and wanted to punch his brother. That was why Ford had tried to ditch them. It wasn’t just a party. It was a party Fiddleford was going to be at. What had happened? Fiddleford was supposed to be hanging with them after the trick or treating.

His brother had ditched him over another guy. All of this was Ford’s fault. He’d ticked off this monster thing. He’d refused to wear a costume and got them behind. He’d then lost all five hundred pieces of candy because he didn’t want to be caught trick or treating.

Susan screamed quite suddenly and caused Fiddleford to swerve. His truck was already making sputtering noises. Stan had a feeling it had been damaged in the collision. Susan was pointing at something going on outside.

“Look!” She cried. “It’s coming back together!” Stan craned his head, which hurt, and saw what she was talking about. The creature was coming back together. Bits of it were flying from everywhere and reassembling his body.

He turned back to Fiddleford and grabbed the back of his seat. “Can this thing go any faster?”

Fiddleford shook his head. The car was slowing down.

“Flapjacks!” Fiddleford said with a bang of his fist on the dashboard. The truck continued to slow. “The engine’s goin’ out.” He hit the gas but it made no difference. He steered the truck towards the curb. “Get ready to run, y’all. We’re gonna have to head to the graveyard.”

“What?!” Ford demanded. Stan reached over and unclasped Ford’s seatbelt. He grabbed the door and got ready to jerk it open. Soos undid his own seatbelt and got ready to bolt. The engine gave out and the truck bucked to a painful stop. Fiddleford climbed out of the truck, taking the keys with him. Stan was next out, followed by Soos and Ford. Susan had a little trouble getting down with her leg. Fiddleford paused just long enough to help her out. The five ran for the hill and the gravestones standing there.

Fiddleford vaulted over the tallest one. Susan took the first one she reached. Soos took a short, wide one, and Stan and Ford dove behind the same one. Their shoulders collided and Stan let out a hiss of pain.

“You’re hurt!” Ford accused.

“No duh, Poindexter.” He hissed through his teeth. Everything hurt. How far had he fallen?

Ford stared at him with tears on his cheek. “I’m sorry, okay?” He said brokenly. Stan could hardly look at him. He wanted to stay mad. He’d always found that anger sharpened his senses. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” He whispered angrily. “That you were ditching me?”

“It’s not that.” He sighed and started to fiddle with his glasses. “I just… I started to feel like we were too old for trick or treating. I mean… We’re teenagers now.”

“Barely.” Stan muttered. They could hear something big moving towards them. “Besides, we only get so long to trick or treat. Pa won’t let us do it much longer. We gotta take advantage of it while we can.” He sighed and leaned his head back against the tombstone. It was just another thing he was no longer allowed to do. Just another fun thing to mark off his list for good. Growing up was an endless ride of suck. Even worse, Ford hadn’t talked to him. That was happening far too often of late. What had happened? What made Ford think Stan couldn’t understand him? Was that a part of growing up? Did you stop talking to people? Really talking? Was it like Mabel? You just held in whatever was hurting you until you were numb? You just shook off sad thoughts?

“Come out, come out.” The Trickster called softly for them and both twins tensed. The voice was coming from the direction Soos tombstone was in. They could both hear the boy’s hitched breathes from their own tombstones. Stan twisted around so he could see more clearly. Ford pulled his journal out like it would be helpful at a time like this. They didn’t have time to research. That was something that would have been useful a lot earlier. 

“What are you doing?” Stan hissed as he glanced around the tombstone. Sure enough, the trickster was making a beeline to Soos grave. There was a bit of his cape sticking out.

“Making notes.” Ford replied. 

Stan got his legs under himself. He knew he was about to do something drastic. He couldn’t very well let another kid get eaten. He glanced at Ford who was indeed writing stuff down. He gripped the edge of the tombstone and shook his head.

“Is now really the time?”

Ford nodded. “Now is the only time. If something happens I want others to know what this thing is.”

Whatever. The trickster reached Soos tombstone. He reached behind it and Stan sprang into action. 

“Hey!” He shouted, “loser! You punch like a sissy!” It wasn’t a great insult but he didn’t need anything good. The Trickster sprang to his legs, holding Soos in his grip. 

“You’ve become quite annoying, children.” The monster growled. He opened his jaw and swallowed Soos. Stan shouted in horror too late. Soos was gone.

He grabbed his bronze knuckles and charged at the monster. He didn’t notice Ford grabbing a stick and joining him. He didn’t see Fiddleford swinging at the monster with a hammer or Susan hurling stones at it. He only saw the blur of the monster and his own fist swinging wildly at it.

“What?” Ford exclaimed loudly, “Was that licorish?” Stan was hit in the face with a mealy, familiarly disgusting, chocolate bar. He spat it out violently and gaped at the monster. Mr. Adequate Bar? What the hell?

“By gummity,” Fiddleford called from the monster’s other side. “You’re right! He’s candy.”

“Have you really not figured it out?” The monster demanded. It caught them in it’s oversized hands and hoisted them up so they could look at it’s mask covered face. “Look at me.” A new hand raised and pulled the small mask off. A distorted face stared back at them. Stan blinked and squinted at the face. It was blurry, but even with his terrible vision, you couldn’t mistake the candy. His eyes were those strange orange wax wrapper things that old people always had. They were supposedly peanut butter but were not even close. He’d never actually seen them available to buy at a store. He wasn’t sure where old people got them. The Trickster’s mouth was made of licorice pieces and his teeth were sharpened candy corn. His skin was made of white powdery covered chocolate. 

“Loser candy?” Ford asked dubiously. 

The monster snarled. “That's right! Did you ever stop and think about the candy at the bottom of the bag that no one likes? Every year the children of Gravity Falls throw away all of the  _ rejected  _ candy into the dump. I'm made of every tossed piece of black licorice, every discarded bar of old chocolate.” The candy expression turned dark and foreboding. The grip around Stan’s waist tightened painfully. “So I seek revenge; revenge on the picky children who cast me aside.” He grinned widely enough to show all his candy teeth. There was nothing behind the teeth, just a dark void. “No one would eat me-so I’m going to eat all of you.” He brought Ford closer and opened his mouth. Stan cried out and tried to free his arms. He kicked wildly and struggled with all his might. Ford was staring up at the monster’s discarded candy face in defiance. 

The monster paused with Ford’s head a few inches from his mouth. He tilted his head and frowned.

“What,” he started and then gasped. His head reeled back and he extended all his arms out as a scream of pain left his candy lips. An explosion of candy burst from his chest and two children fell out of the new hole.

“He’s candy.” Soos stated. He was surrounded by the monster’s innards and was chewing on what looked like a candy heart. Gorney was sitting beside him with wide eyes.

The monster fell backwards, taking Stan, Ford, Susan, and Fiddleford with him. His grip loosened and Stan broke free. Ford and the others followed his lead.

“Wait,” the monster asked around tears made of candy corn, “do, do you like me?”

“I mean, candy is candy.” Soos said simply. He swallowed the heart and picked up another piece. Stan could only stare. 

“All,” the monster struggled to say, “all I’ve ever wanted…” he swallowed thickly and sucked in a feeble breath, “was to be eaten.” More candy corn tears fell. The monster shuddered, and then he was still.

* * *

Fiddleford managed to get his truck started again. They had to use some Trickster bubblegum but they got it running. He then drove the kids back to the Mystery Shack. It was a little after nine thirty. Soos’s abuelito was letting him sleep over and Susan’s dad wasn’t picking her up until eleven.

Stan was quiet on the ride back, and Ford wasn’t sure what to do with that. Stan was rarely quiet. He knew he’d messed up tonight, but he wasn’t sure what he could do about it. That was probably because he wasn't entirely sure of what to do with himself. He didn't know why he'd kept his thoughts to himself. Stanley probably would have understood. It wasn't like his costume was embarrassing either. He'd designed it himself, after all. It wasn't even that he minded trick or treating or dressing in costume. He liked dressing in costumes. He liked making complicated costumes and pretending to be other people. He'd even dressed up for a few dungeons, dungeons, and more dungeons sessions.

He minded that Robbie had made fun of Fiddleford for enjoying it. He minded that Fiddleford had quickly dismissed dressing up as babyish and had then proceeded to state he was going to the party. He minded that Robbie's attention had been fixed on his abnormal hands when he asked if Ford was dressing up for summerween.

He hated being reminded that he was a freak. He hated being reminded that his interest were considered dumb and that he would never fit in with most of the world. Even in a town as weird as Gravity Falls, he was still made to feel like he didn't belong.

Then there was Stan. Goofy, good natured, easy to get along with, Stanley. Stanley who was never made fun because of what he looked like.

Which wasn't really fair of Ford, probably. He knew his brother struggled with his own shortcomings. He got picked on by plenty of people. He was called dumb, stupid, ignorant, idiot, lazy, and every variation of those.

Stan was comfortable in his own skin where Ford never was. That was why he liked dressing up. He could pretend to be somebody else. Somebody who didn't have six fingers. Someone who didn't have a scrawny body. Somebody normal or spectacular.

He tried to catch Stanley's eye on the way home but his brother either didn't see him or was ignoring him. He should have told him about the party. He didn't want to disappoint his brother and he'd done far worse by being quiet. He'd hurt Stan's feelings. He made him feel betrayed.

Even with that Stan still tried to protect him. He'd lost count of the number of times his brother had thrown himself between that monster and the rest of them. It was all Ford's fault they were even fighting the thing and Stan still took the hits.

He'd have to examine him tonight. Stan was used to bruises and cuts. He got them a lot. From fighting bullies, boxing, and pa. He didn't think Ford knew about that last one but he did.

The truck pulled to a rattling stop and sputtered. The kids got out and filed into the shack. Fiddleford followed behind them. Mabel was waiting in the dining room.

"Hey kids!" She called with excitement. She was dressed as Wendy and had Waddles in a tiny Peter Pan costume. She'd even attached a little fairy to his shoulder. She'd set out a lot of food on the table in the living room and had a pile of movies for them to pick from.

"Would you like-what happened?" She demanded when they came into view. She grabbed Stan and Ford by the shoulder and pulled them close. She crouched down in front of them and examined them.

"Car accident." Fiddleford answered. "We got hit. Didn't see who it was. Thankfully no one was hurt too bad." He smiled sheepishly. "That's why we wear seatbelts, right?" Everyone nodded a little stiffly. Soos had been hardest to convince to lie. It was only when Stan convinced him it was what would be best for Mabel that he agreed.

"Did you file a police report?" Fiddleford shook his head with an easy smile.

"I tried but Blubs and Durland were out trick or treating. I'll file it tomorrow when I take my truck to the shop." He shrugged and grabbed a few pieces of candy. Ford caught a slight tremble in his hands as he picked up the chocolate bars. He didn't feel much like eating candy right now either.

"Well at least your safe." She crushed both twins to her chest in a tight hug. Ford found his breath hitching and he had to swallow several times to keep the tears back. He had so much to apologize for.

She released them and messed up their hair. Stan swatted good naturedly at her hand.

"Graunty Mabel," he laughed, "You'll mess up my gel."

"Ew." She commented with a wry smile. Her hand was slick. "I should have known better. I put the product in there." She shook her head, laughed, and pushed them towards the couch. "I'll get the first aid kit. You guys go ahead and get started. Pick out whatever you want."

They went in the room to see Wendy was already seated at the table. She was carving a Jack O Melon.

"Hey guys." She waved. "Didn't see you at the party."

"Nope." Ford replied. He tried to smile but it was painful. "We were out trick or treating."

"Yep!" Stan replied cheerfully. He grabbed a slice of pizza and plopped on the couch. Susan joined him. Soos took the floor in front of the tv and started to go through the movies.

"'S probably a good thing." Wendy replied glumly. "The party was lame. Robbie swallowed a lollipop stick first and had to go home early. Emma gave me a ride over here. She had to go to work."

"Yeah, the manager keeps giving her night shifts." Fiddleford remarked. Ford ignored the continuing conversation about his crush's girlfriend and went towards the couch. Stan had saved him a seat.

"Here, bro." Stan passed him a slice of pizza that he'd picked the pepperoni off of. Ford hated peperoni.

And just like that, they were okay again. He bandaged the obvious wounds when Mabel came back and promised himself he'd give Stan a thorough exam that night. He noticed Susan kept stealing glances at his brother through the night. Apparently he wasn't the only one who noticed that Stan had thrown himself between them and the monster. There were stars in Susan's eyes and Ford wasn't certain he liked that.

He wanted to be able to do that. To be confident enough to say he liked wearing costumes and courageous enough to throw himself at a literal monster. That was the third time Stan had done it sense they'd arrived in this town.

He sighed and finished his pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be skipping a few episodes because they don't really work for Stan and Ford. Some I'll be mixing with other episodes or taking elements of. Let me know if there's any episode you absolutely adore that aren't game changing lore episodes. (like not what he seems, weirdmeggedon, tale of two stans, etc are game changing lore episodes)


	10. Land Before Swine: Bros before Dinos!

“Behold!” Mabel called out to the tourists roaming the shop. She held up a Mystery Shack bumper sticker for everyone to see. “Mystery Shack bumper stickers! You can stick ‘em on your bumper, or over your husband’s mouth. Am I right, ladies?” She winked at one of the women who was paying attention. “She knows what I’m talking about!”

The woman laughed cheerfully and walked up to the counter. “Oh,” she gushed, “you are bad!” She pulled out her wallet with a huge grin and Stan was impressed. His Graunty Mabel had great people skills. He was fairly certain that’s where he had inherited his because no one else in his family seemed to have any. Ma could be great if she wasn’t such a compulsive liar.

He then promptly felt his mouth drop open in shock as Mabel passed the woman the bumper sticker.

“Hey,” she said with a sincere smile, “It’s on the house. That’s the Mabel difference! Thanks for visiting!”

“What are you doing?” He demanded. She raised a confused eyebrow and straightened her hat. “Why would you just give that away? You had her on the hook. You could have sold it for ten dollars!”

“Why would I charge her that much for a bumper sticker? I want people to have fun.” She started to ring up another customer. “Thank you for visiting the Mystery Shack.”

“Yes,” the customer showed her a snow globe with a crack. Stan recognized the man as one of the customers he’d checked out that morning, “as you can see, this item is cracked. I’d like a refund.”

“Of course.” She took the defective snowglobe from him and handed back the cash he’d paid.

“Hey!” Stan exclaimed. Mabel ignored him and thanked the customer. “That wasn’t cracked when he bought it! He musta broke it outside.”

Mabel shrugged and started on another customer. “What does it matter?” She asked while she rang up the customer’s order. She thanked them for their business and finally gave Stan her full attention.

“He lied and cheated you out of money.” He shook his head. Pa would lose his shit if either of the twins were caught giving a refund. He could have used Ford as back up right now but his nerdy twin was in the attic working on some project.

Mabel shrugged again. “Maybe he did or maybe he didn’t. It was just a few dollars either way. We’re fine.” He started to object and she put her finger over his lips with a ‘boop.’ He opened his mouth anyway and she dragged her finger to his cheeks and bopped each of them. “Nope.” She said cheerfully. “That’s the Mabel difference. Refunds on broken items with a smile.”

“Why are you even running the cash register? Where’s Wendy? Isn’t that her job?” He shook his head in frustration with his aunt. He loved her. He loved her bright spirit, her goofy jokes, her ridiculous stories, and how quick she was to jump to defend her family. However she always seemed to be getting taken advantage of by somebody. Whether it was a customer lying about an item or Wendy refusing to do any kind of work. Her kindness was stepped on by other people and she refused to see it. He wouldn't let that happen while he was around. She should be rich with this awesome shack. She should have employees who actually worked and didn't take advantage of her.

Mabel flushed. "I, uh, let her have the afternoon off."

"Why?" He asked suspiciously though he was pretty sure he knew the answer. "She sick or somethin'?"

"Never mind all that." Mabel knocked his hat over his eyes. He shoved it back upright and glared. “Do me a favor,” She pointed towards the sign over the t-shirts. “How much does that say? I asked Wendy to up the price but I don’t know if she did. I don’t have my glasses with me.”

He squinted at the sign but couldn't make the words any clearer. “I can’t read that Graunty Mabel. It’s too far away.” He looked back at her. “Give me a second.”

“Wait,” Mabel held up an arthritic hand with a frown to stop him from going over to the sign. “What?”

Stan hesitated. “I can’t read it, Graunty Mabel. The words are too far away. I might could make it out if I were a little closer.” He tried to take a step forward and was promptly stopped by Mabel. She grabbed his shoulder and turned him around to face her. She leaned over the counter and peered down at him.

“Stanley Pines, are you saying you’ve been nearsighted this whole damn time?” Stan’s mouth dropped open in shock. He had never heard Graunty Mabel curse. Not even when she was being attacked by a giant sea creature. She’d call something that was annoying her a butt face or a cold corndog typically. He’d even heard her go so far as a double fudgenut bar but he’d never heard her use an actual ‘bad’ word. Stan didn’t even typically consider damn to be a bad word. Coming out of Mabel’s mouth the tame word was terrifying. He didn’t know how to respond to the question, He hadn’t been trying to hide his vision problems. Everyone at home knew he couldn’t see. He just kind of assumed people knew. He typically assumed that about everything until he was told otherwise.

“I, uh, I mean… yeah. I have been since I was a kid.”

“Then where, pray tell, are your glasses?” Mabel demanded. He flinched at the tone and instantly regretted the action. Thankfully, Mabel didn’t seem to notice. “Did they get left at home?”

He was too ashamed to tell the truth. That he didn’t have any because he couldn’t earn the money to buy them. That it was his own fault his previous ones were broken. He shouldn't have taken Crampelter up on the fight but he'd been worried for Ford.

“Yeah. I left them at home.” Mabel shook her head at the quiet response. She shut the cash register and walked past him with her hands on her hips - he flinched again but she still didn’t notice - and grabbed her purse off the counter.

“Come on.” She ordered as she marched back past him.

“Huh?” He followed dutifully despite his confusion.

“We’re getting you some glasses, Gumball.” She shook her head as she opened the door and motioned for him to walk outside. “Ford!” She shouted up the stairs. “Stan and I are going shopping. Don’t leave without Fiddleford! We’ll bring back some lunch!” She flipped the sign over the door to ‘closed’, shut the door behind herself and locked it. “You’re not going the rest of the summer without being able to properly see. Especially not in this crazy town. Can’t have you walking into the bottomless pit just ‘cause you didn’t see it.”

“Bottomless Pit?” Stan couldn’t help but ask. He wasn’t certain to do with the other feelings swirling in his chest. Mabel was going to buy him glasses just because she was worried. She thought he’d just been forgetful and she was still going to shell out the money to buy him a pair of glasses. How were you supposed to respond to that?

Mabel laughed at his question and unlocked the bug.

“Tell ya what,” she said with a chuckle. “I’ll swing buy it on the way home.” She winked at him. “It’s another one of the quirks of Gravity Falls." Stan climbed into the front seat and buckled up to have something to do.

"Do you know your prescription?" Stan shook his head. Mabel shrugged.

"That's fine. We can go to the mall and get you a quick eye exam there." She laughed wryly. "It'll be relaxing after how busy we’ve been. We can even pick up some lunch at the meat stand.”

"Uh, sure." He still couldn't understand what was happening. Not only was he getting glasses, he was getting an exam now too. Mabel glanced at him and frowned when she noticed his confused expression.

"What's wrong, Gumball?"

"Why are you buying me glasses?"

She reached over with her right hand and poked his cheek. "'Cause I love you and I don't want you getting hurt without them. I'd go for contacts if you wanted, but I don't know how long they take. I know we can walk out with glasses today."

"Yeah but," he struggled with how to word his problems. "They're expensive, aren’t they?"

Mabel considered him for a moment. "Gumball, if I couldn't afford to buy you glasses, I probably shouldn't be responsible for you."

Stan looked out the window to hide his face. He didn't get Mabel at all sometimes.

"You were right earlier, you know." Mabel finally said. Stan turned to look at his Graunty and saw her biting her lip. She looked a little ashamed. "I am too soft on Wendy." Stan blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected that to come back up. "She's hit customers in the face with tennis balls before. Her friends always make a mess and I just pretend not to see." She sighed. "I want people to like me too much. I could stand to be a little stricter." She glanced at him and smiled. "You'll be a good boss someday. A tough one, but I think you'll be fair." She grinned wider. “You’ll just have to make sure not to con people too much.” She looked back at the road with a fond little smile. “Treat people well and you’ll go far. You got a good head on your shoulders.”

He'd never thought about being a boss. He'd only ever imagined graduating from high school and moving out of the house. They'd get on the boat and go sailing into their future. Free and unhindered.

But... running something like the Mystery Shack? Well... if he couldn't have his boat, that wouldn't be a terrible back up plan.

Mr. Mystery. Hmm. Not a bad retirement plan if nothing else.

* * *

“Ford?” He ran into the shack with his new glasses and had to pause. He’d never seen it so clearly. The place was bright and glittery and so colorful. It had always been a blur of color but now he could see the distinction between them. He grinned and raced through it.

“Stop running in the house!” Mabel shouted after him. She belayed the order with laughter. Stan called for his brother and didn’t hear a response. He headed for the stairs. Running jostled a few of the bruises on his chest but that was fine. 

He reached the top of the stairs and threw the door open. “Ford!”

Ford was standing a few feet away from him bent over a table with a lot of containers on it. He was digging through the pile for something.

“Whatcha doing?” There was a pile of ropes, cameras, screws, and part of a mechanical arm Fiddleford had built for the Roomba. He’d wanted it to be able to lift itself up but something had gone wrong. Ford glanced up briefly and smiled. His hair was ruffled and he had dust on his sleeves.

“Stan!” he exclaimed with a huge grin. “Check it,” He pointed towards the pile on the bed, “we’re going monster hunting.” He stopped and his grin got larger. “Hey, you got glasses!”

Stan nodded. He struck a pose and tilted his chin up. He probably looked like a nerd again but he didn’t care. He was just happy to finally be able to see properly. It had been a long time since he’d worn glasses. Mabel had even picked herself up an extra pair. She’d already bought a spare for Ford and she made sure Stan had one as well. Apparently she was a big believer in spares.

“Mabel got me a pair.” He adjusted them a little and felt himself blush at Ford’s proud gaze.

“They look good. Can you see?” He set the camera down and went to stand in front of Stan. His smile faltered a little as he saw the band aid on his cheek and the slight bruising that was still evident around his right eye.

“Yep,” Stan rushed. He didn’t want Ford getting distracted by his injuries. They’d spent way too long on that. Ford had spent well over an hour checking him out for injuries after Summerween. It was great to feel so cared about but a little bit too much. He wasn’t glass or anything. Stanley could take a hit.

He pulled the glasses off and passed them to Ford to inspect. He was close enough that Stan could make out his face clearly.

“Mabel had me get an exam so she could know what my prescription was.” Ford lifted the glasses up and laughed.

“Well she’s more practical than ma. She got plastic lenses.”

“Yeah, poly something.” Stan confirmed. He took the metal framed glasses back and slipped them on. “You said something about monster hunting?”

Ford blinked and then seemed to remember. “Oh, yeah.” He turned and motioned to the pile of stuff. “We’re going to try and get a picture of whatever the big thing is that keeps flying by.”

“Cool. How?” Ford grinned and walked to the bed.

“Fiddleford came up with the plan. We’re going to set up a camera trap. The creature’ll fly by, trip the trap and set off the camera.” He passed Stan a sketch of their trap plan. He studied it and gave his name an approving nod.

“What’s the bait?” He looked up to see Ford frowning.

“Bait?”

“Yeah, why’s he gonna fly over?” Ford looked down at the plan and then back at Stan. Looks like Sixer had forgotten that part.

“Whonk!” Both twins turned towards the door to see Waddles. The pig was sitting with its head tilted to the side.

“You know,” Stan started, “he’s potentially delicious.”

“It is the natural order.” Ford added.

“And it’s not like he’ll get hurt.” Stan said.

Ford nodded. “Of course not, we’ll be there. And it’s not like we’d use him as bait.”

“No,” Stan agreed, “but if he happened to be outside. Well. I see no reason not to take advantage.”

The twins shook hands and smiled at the pig. Waddles snorted and sat down.

* * *

They set the 3 cameras up in the trees. Fiddleford helped them lay the trap and then went inside to help fix a display. The twins coaxed Waddles out with a pile of loser candy they still had from Summerween. None of them were about to eat that stuff. He’d promptly plopped in front of the pile of candy and started eating it. He had a partially made sweater around his torso. Mabel was making him one to match hers. Ford tucked the ball of yarn next to the pig and made his way back to Stan.

Ford had wanted to hide in the trees but Stan wasn’t about to climb up there. Not that Ford blamed him. His brother had been forced to face that particular fear more times in the last month than he had in the rest of his life. Instead his brother had perched himself at the root of the tree. He had a bag of toffee peanuts.

Ford sat next to him and immediately regretted the choice. “What’s with the sap here?” He lifted his sap covered hand and tried to shake the thick goo off.

Stan swallowed his peanuts. “I know, right?” He talked around another handful of peanuts. “Seems worse than Jersey.”

“Yeah.” He wiped his hand off on the grass. “Okay, if everything goes according to plan, the creature will go for Waddles, cross the strings, and set off the cameras. That’ll trigger the net and trap him before he gets Waddles.”

“It’s awesome.” Stan raised his hand, “High-six?”

“High-six!” He slapped his hand against Stan. Their hands made a squelching noise when they connected and Ford realized how dumb he’d just been. “Oops.”

Stan snorted and tugged his hand back. Ford’s stuck hand followed him. He stuffed his peanuts into his pocket and caught his brother’s stuck hand in his free hand. He pulled hard and their hands were freed. Ford flexed his fingers. That had hurt a bit.

A sudden and  _ loud _ roar blasted through the forest. A gust of wind rushed over them that was stronger than anything they’d feel on the beach. The cameras over their head started to go crazy taking pictures. Waddles squealed in terror and started to run towards the woods.

“No!” Stan gasped. The creature – whatever it was – flew over the net trap and caught Waddles around the middle. It flew up and into the woods. “Waddles!”

“Oh my god!” Ford struggled to his feet and got his hand stuck to the tree. “Waddles!”

“What was that?” Stan rounded on him. Ford gestured wildly with his free hand towards where the creature had flown off.

“A pteranodon!”

“What the hell does that mean?” He noticed Ford’s hand was stuck and tugged it off the tree. Bits of bark came with him. His hand was throbbing now.

“A pterodactyl! A dinosaur!”

“But,” Stan sputtered, “they’re dead.”

Ford nodded his head and shook his stinging hand. “Extinct, yes. For several million years.”

“Ford? Stan? You two alright?” Fiddleford came running towards them with Graunty Mabel following. Ford’s already pounding heart quickened. Mabel would freak. Stan’s hand latched onto his elbow and squeezed hard. He was tugged backwards. He followed Stan’s guidance and exhaled shakily. Graunty Mabel reached them and looked around at the trees.

“Is everyone okay?” She saw the cameras overhead and squinted.

Stan promptly burst into tears and covered his face. “Waddles!” He sobbed loudly. Ford stared at him with mouth agape.

“Waddles? What happened?”

“The monster took him! We were trying to get a picture of what’s been swooping by the Shack.” Stan explained around his hands. Ford couldn’t help but notice that despite the sob he’d given there were no tears. “Waddles saw our pile of candy we were trying to lure the monster with.” He dropped his hands and peered at Mabel. His eyes were red and he looked convincingly distraught. “It got Waddles before we could reach him!”

Mabel’s hand flew to cover her mouth. She took a step back and looked stricken.

“He was wearing that sweater, right?” Fiddleford asked. He was adjusting his glasses and peering up into the trees.

“Yeah?”

Fiddleford pointed towards the trees. “Then I reckon we can follow that yarn right to him.” Sure enough there was something red caught in the trees. “Did you get a clear look at it?”

Ford nodded his head. “Yeah. It was a pteranodon.”

Fiddleford’s gaze locked on him and Ford nodded his head. He had to work hard to suppress his smile. “I know.” They were going to find a dinosaur.

* * *

The yarn led to a dilapidated church. It looked like the one that was in Gravity Falls, but instead of the fresh white paint and the well-tended structure, it was plain wood and rotting. There was a huge hole in the top of it and the red yarn led inside. They picked their way through the rotting floor and over thrown pews. There was a huge, yawning, pit that led down into some old tunnel. Fiddleford told them it was a mine shaft. Apparently there had been a gold rush in Gravity Falls way back when. Mining tunnels ran underneath a lot of the town.

Stan was not happy to find out they’d have to go down it. He took his glasses off and closed his eyes while Fiddleford tied a rope around him. He then mostly hauled Stan down the rope. Ford took lead, Mabel was second, with Fiddleford and Stan in the rear. It got very dark about hallway down the shaft before it started to grow light again. They reached the bottom of the rope to find themselves surrounded by strange, exotic, and big plants. Fiddleford untied Stan who promptly bent over and rested his hands on his knees.

“Sixer, I swear to god,” Stan said shakily, “if I have to face one more death defying height because of some stupid plan you made, I will find a monster made of snakes and hide it under your bed.”

Ford laid a consoling hand on his back and ignored the threat. “You okay?”

Stan straightened and glared. Ford doubted it was genuine anger. It was far more likely embarrassment. Stan hated looking scared in front of other people. He chose to ignore the glare and looked around. He’d never seen any of the plants that were surrounding them. They looked like something that would be more in place in a rainforest-

He had seen them before. He just hadn’t been paying much attention at the time. He’d been far more concerned with the dinosaur in front of them. When he had misused the time tape and sent them millions and millions of years in the past. He had seen similar plants in that humid time.

“These plants are all Jurassicy.” Mabel said with a gasp. She reached towards one and Ford squeaked in horror. Fiddleford moved much faster than he did. He latched onto Mabel’s arm and jerked it back. 

“No!” HIs voice echoed around the abandoned shaft. “Don’t touch anything. It could be highly poisonous.” Mabel’s eyes widened and she looked back at the pink and green plant. She took a step closer to Fiddleford. The teenager nodded his head. “Yeah. Give it a wide berth. Plants in this period evolved to be nasty.” He paled and looked over at Ford.

“What?” He wasn’t sure what was going through Fiddleford’s mind.

“What else do you think might be down here? I mean, we got these,” He motioned to all the plants around them. “and the-”

“Pteranodon.” Ford answered quietly. He got it now. Stanley straightened beside him with a sigh.

“Can you two dorks stop speaking nerd? Graunty Mabel and I don’t know that lingo. What’s the big deal?”

“These plants went extinct fifty or more million years ago.” Fiddleford explained. There was a lump in Ford’s throat. He wasn’t sure if it was due to fear or excitement. “They can’t exist. Or they shouldn’t.”

“But since they do, what else might?” Ford supplied. Stan looked confused for another moment. 

“You thinkin’ more dinosaurs or something?” 

Fiddleford shrugged. “They had other nasty things too. Think of the bugs.” Mabel paled visibly and grabbed a hold of Fiddleford and Stanley. “Or not!” Fiddleford add hastily.

“Well let’s find out.” Stan straightened his glasses and stepped forward as much as he could. Mabel had a tight grip. “Ford, you got a flashlight?” Ford reached into his trench coat and pulled one out. Stan always had a knife, his knuckles, and a screwdriver. Ford always had his notebook, pencils, a ruler, and a flashlight. He also typically had at least two books on his person. He pressed the button and the flashlight lit up the area around them. 

A head that was as large as Greasy’s diner was caught in the beam of the light with two beady eyes staring down at them. Razor sharp teeth glinted in the light.

Ford, Stan, Fiddleford, and Mabel all promptly screamed. Mabel grabbed Fiddleford and Stanley and jerked them to her chest in a tight embrace. She reached for Ford as well but he was out of her range. Stan broke free from her wild grasp and lunged for Ford to get him away from the massive T-Rex and his open jaws.

Ford realized what they didn’t.

“Look.” he called. He stepped forward and out of his brother’s reach. He lifted the beam of the flashlight and flicked it back and forth. It caused the sap the dinosaur was encased in to glisten. “It’s caught in the tree sap.” He walked backwards to Stan and his beam covered more of the hall. There were at least a dozen dinosaurs in front of him, and they were all in the same state. He recognized a few of the species but several more he didn’t. 

The T-rex was the most imposing of the dinosaurs and took up a large portion of the tunnel. Now that Ford could see the entirety of the tunnel he noticed that the sap had poured over the dinosaurs from the top of the tunnel. It looked like there had been a hole or something that the sap had fallen through. It had probably caused the animals to get stuck and then had completely sealed them. Unfortunately he could also see something far more alarming. The sap in front of him was melting. There was a fresh, sticky, puddle on the floor around the dinosaur.

“Flapjacks!” Fiddleford stammered. He was facing the opposite direction of the group. Ford spun around to see what had startled the inventor and nearly dropped the flashlight. A velociraptor was sealed in the sap. What had caught Fiddleford’s attention was the long, curved, claw that was free of the sap and  _ twitching. _

“We need to go.” Ford managed after a moment. Stan nodded in agreement. Ford knew he loved Jurassic Park and recognized the creature for what it was.

“The yarn is going down that tunnel.” Mabel motioned towards the middle tunnel and the group started down it. They got a few hundred yards down it when the tunnel grew brighter. They broke clear of the tunnel a dozen or so yards later. The ground went forward another fifteen feet and then dropped off in a steep ledge. The old mining cart track stretched out from the edge they were onto another tall rock. A rock that had a large nest on it.

“I can’t do that!” Stanley moaned in horror. He took a step back and hit Mabel in the chest. His twin was extremely pale and swaying slightly. Mabel dropped her hands on his shoulders and gave him a comforting squeeze.

“Stan,” Ford started. His brother interrupted before he could.

“No!” He exclaimed. His hands balled into defensive fists. “I can’t do it! Not again! Look,” He rounded on Mabel with wild eyes, “I’m sorry! If I had known the net wouldn’t work I would never have used him! I’da gotten a steak or something!”

Mabel’s voice was very small. “What?”

Stan realized his mistake and tried to back track. “I mean, I wouldn’t have tried to-”

“No,” Mabel pointed a finger at his chest accusingly. “You  _ lied _ to me! You told me Waddles accidentally got caught in your trap. You used him as bait!” She waved her hands through the air to emphasise her point and Stan flinched hard. Ford’s protective instincts flared.

“Graunty Mabel,” he was cut off again.

“No! You both lied to me and now Waddles life is in danger! He’s all I have!” She sobbed the word out and wrapped her arms around her chest. Stan looked stricken and Ford didn’t feel any better. Waddles was all she had? What about them? “I can’t believe you would do that to me. You know how much I love him.” She took a step away from them and turned her head away. “I can’t look at you right now.” The sound of her crying echoed around them. 

“Whonk!” A familiar high pitched squeal echoed behind Ford. All four of them turned to see a pink pig peeking out from the top of the nest.

“Waddles!” Mabel shrieked. She started running towards the nest. 

“No!” Fiddleford yelled. He took off after Mabel. Ford followed as well. He didn’t notice Stan swallow and do the same.

The mine cart track was in surprisingly good condition. It didn’t creak or moan as they crossed it. None of them gave it much time to have trouble. They simply ran for all they were worth. Mabel was the first to reach the other side and she scooped her pig up. She gave him a squeeze tight enough to make him squeal. 

“Waddles,” she babbled, “I’m never letting you out of my sight again!”

Ford shifted on his feet and heard an unpleasant cracking sound. He looked down and felt his heart thump heavily. His body felt extremely cold suddenly as his breath left in a startled gasp. The bottom of the nest was covered in bones. There had to be hundreds of bones, some of which were very human looking. 

“Uh,” he said, “Graunty? I, uh, think we need to get out.” He swallowed and felt his hands shake. “Now.”

“By gummity,” Fiddleford added. He’d just noticed the skeletons as well. Stan was too busy looking at the giant egg in the center of the nest. 

“Sqree!” Waddles squealed. He wriggled free of Mabel’s grasp and landed on the ground of the nest. He then bolted towards Stanley. Stan released a startled squeak and caught the pig as it hit his chest. He took a stumbling step backwards and onto the mine cart track. 

“Get off me.” He grumbled. Waddles paid him no mind and continued to squeal like he was dying. Stan hefted him off his chest and held him up with extended arms. 

“Look out!” Fiddleford shouted. Ford’s eyes shot to where he was pointing and he suddenly couldn’t breathe. The pteranodon was swooping towards Stan and Waddles. Stan looked up a second too late and a look of pure horror came over his face as the Pteranodon extended its clawed feet towards him. It collided with Stan’s side. He fell back a step off of the nest and onto the cart track. He lost his footing on the wooden plank. For what felt like an eternity and nothing at the same time, Ford watched his brother fall off the track. Stan’s eyes, finally able to see everything around him thanks to the glasses he’d gotten a few hours ago, were wider than Ford had ever seen them. The brown eyes he was so familiar with, locked on him pleadingly. They begged him to do something, anything to save him. Stan’s mouth was open, murmuring some words Ford couldn’t hear. Terror lined his face, his bruises from the Trickster suddenly so obvious against his now pale skin. 

Ford couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. He could only watch as his twin fell off the track into the darkness below them. He screamed without knowing he did it. His hand was reaching towards Stan like he could grab a hold of him. Like there wasn’t a few dozen feet between them.

Stan’s scream pierced the air and time seemed to jerk back into proper motion. Fiddleford grabbed a hold of his shoulder and jerked him back before he could charge after Stan. He fell to his knees in shock without even realizing he did so. They simply couldn’t hold him up any longer. Mabel was screaming as well but it didn’t matter. His mind shot through an endless array of equations as Fiddleford dragged him back against the wall of the nest. He calculated the velocity, the angles, the air pressure, the force of gravity. He played the numbers over and over until he couldn’t see anything but the stream of them. They all ended with the same inevitable collision and Stan’s death.

He couldn’t hear the egg in front of them cracking or Mabel’s stifled sobs.

* * *

Stan fell for what felt like a year but was probably only a handful of seconds. He clutched Waddles to his chest with no idea why. The air around him roared and disoriented him until he felt himself collided with something bouncy. He sprang up into the air a few feet and bounced down lower. Three more bounces and he crashed into a springy Jurassicy plant. It was too big and thick to be grass but that was the closest thing he could think of to what it was. It knocked the air out of him and rattled his entire body.

He blinked up at the strange ceiling over his head. It took him a moment to clear the stars from his eyes. It was a mushroom. Huh. He must have landed on that.

Waddles squealed above him and he suddenly remembered him. He loosened his grip on the pig and Waddles rolled off his chest.

Why did this town have so many heights? Jersey had skyscrapers in it and there weren’t as many heights on a daily basis.

He hoped Ford and the others were alright. Would the ptero-thing turn on them when it realized it had lost him?

“Come on.” He said to the pig. He tried not to sound too grumpy but he couldn’t help it. The pig was all his graunty had after all, and, okay. He shouldn’t have used it. Yeah, he got that. It was a bad idea and would obviously hurt Mabel’s feelings. He’d have been mad if someone had tried that with Shanklin. He missed his possum sometimes…

But, didn’t he matter to her? She’d gotten him glasses that morning and they’d had fun together. He loved her and had hoped she loved him. Well she wouldn’t now. Not only had he gotten her Waddles pignapped, now he’d gotten them knocked off the cliff.

He crawled out from under the mushroom’s canopy with Waddles at his side. He peered up and could see the towering stone that pter-whats-it had built its nest on. It was impossibly far away. He’d have never been able to walk across the track if he’d known how far away the ground was.

“SCREE!” A horribly loud cawing, screeching, scream sounded around him. He grabbed Waddles and dove back under the mushroom just in time to see the dinosaur swoop by. Waddles squealed in terror and tried to tuck his head under Stan’s chin. Stan pushed him away so he could see what was going on. The pterodactyl swooped by again. And again.

“What does he want? Isn’t there somethin’ else he can eat?”

* * *

“For God’s sake!” Fiddleford gave Ford a hard shake that knocked his glasses loose. “Will you listen to me?!”

He blinked in surprise and realized he had no idea how they’d gotten against the nest wall. Fiddleford was inches from his face, his kind eyes intent on Ford’s. His blond hair had fallen in his eyes and he brushed it back irritably. 

“I know you’re upset,” he said in a loud whisper, “but we gotta get out of here if we want to find Stan. That pteranodon is still swooping around down there. So he hasn’t found him yet.” The egg wobbled behind the inventor and Ford felt his pulse spike. Fiddleford twisted on his heel and frowned at the egg. It had a huge crack down the center and the left side of it was popping forward like something was pushing it from the inside. 

That explained why the pteranodon was going for such a large prey as Waddles. It had more than its own mouth to feed.

Fiddleford looked at him again. “If we’re quick we might can get across before that thing hatches.” As if in response to his statement the egg fell over. The top broke open and the tiniest squeaking, peeping noise issued out. Mabel’s hand latched onto his arm and squeezed more tightly than he would have thought her capable of. He winced in pain but didn’t say anything. The baby fell out of its egg and took a few stumbling steps forward. It lifted its head and looked directly at them.

Nobody breathed and for a few long seconds, nothing happened.

“Can he not see us?” Mabel asked in the smallest of voices.

Now there was a thought. Its eyes were extraordinarily wide set. Could it not see things directly in front of it?

“We need to get in a straight line.” He said as quietly as he could. He stood shakily and made certain to stay in front of the pteranodon’s head. Fiddleford shuffled behind him and lifted Mabel up. He shoved her in front of himself. Ford took a hesitant step forward and the pteranodon made no reaction. He took another step and the pteranodon blinked.

Fascinating. It really couldn’t see them. Was it the same with the adult?

They made their way to the track hesitatingly. Ford cringed with every crunch of bone under their feet. Fiddleford was the first to reach the track and he jumped onto it. He helped Mabel and Mabel helped Ford. They remained in a straight line and started to walk sideways. The baby dinosaur blinked and turned its head. Ford jumped to the other side of the track without thinking it through. He landed firmly and found the other two had followed his lead. They made it another ten feet before they had to jump back to the other side.

Several tense moments later they were on the other side.

* * *

“The dumb thing really must be hungry. I guess it's you or me, pig.” He shoved Waddles out from under the mushroom and curled into a ball.

“Wronk.” He could see Waddles tilting his head in confusion and looking at him. Those big, trusting eyes.

“What are you looking at?” He demanded. Waddles just blinked at him. Guilt churned in his stomach. He knew it was his fault they were both here but what did the pig or Mabel expect him to do

“Aw come on, don't give me that look! What am I supposed to do, let it eat me?” Waddles just continued to stare at him. Brown eyes that didn’t understand how much of the world wanted to eat him. Stan had eaten a ham sandwich for lunch. He wasn’t any better than the dinosaur.

He banged his fist against the ground. “Argh!” He huffed and rolled over onto his back. He stared at the mushroom overhead and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, I get it. You're trying to guilt me. Well it ain't working, pal. Who cares if you're Mabel's favorite thing in the world?” It hurt to even say that but it was true. She loved Waddles. She adored him. She’d brightened up considerably since he’d come to stay with her. She’d made at least three sweaters for him. He sighed and shook his head.

“I can live without her talking to me all the time!” He insisted out loud. The words sounded fake even to his ears. “Telling me her jokes... makin' me laugh...”

And what would she do when summer was over and they had to leave again? Who would take care of her when Stan couldn’t?

Waddles snorted and Stan tilted his head to look at the pig. He could see the not-a-pterodactyl swooping towards them. He sat upright and knew what he was going to do.

“Dang it!” He muttered as he crawled out from under the mushroom. He grabbed waddles and shoved him inside his tank top. Waddles squealed and squirmed against the sudden, constricting, change

He exhaled shakily. “Well, this is just about the dumbest thing I've ever done.” He raised his fist defensively and squared off against the giant dinosaur. “You want this pig?! Then you’re gonna have to get through me, you flying devil!” He started running towards the creature with no idea what he was going to do. “Come and get me!”

* * *

They sank behind an outcropping of rocks and breathed. Ford was trembling. He hadn’t realized it earlier.

“SCRAW!” The parent pteranodon screeched out at the top of its lungs. It was almost overhead and was flying erratically.

“Stan?” Mabel’s voice was disbelieving. Ford couldn’t understand what she was saying until he squinted. There was something on the pteranodon’s back. Stan was riding him like a horse and was punching him in the back of the head.

“Oh my god.” He stood up without a care for his own safety and started towards the monster. Fiddleford caught him by the wrist and jerked him back. He struggled to free himself as he kept his eyes locked on his brother. Stan reeled back and swung with all his force. His fist landed on the side of the pteroandon’s head and the bird started to fall towards the side of their cliff. Fiddleford released Ford’s wrist and they both sprang towards the cliff edge. They reached it right as the giant dinosaur collided with the cliff. He crashed into it and started to fall. Stan made a wild leap and grabbed for the cliff side.

Fiddleford and Ford both dropped to their stomachs and started to reach for Stan. They caught his arms and hauled him to the top. They dragged him away from the cliff side and promptly all fell into a pile. Ford wrapped his arms around his brother and tugged him close. Stan laughed and a squeal issued from the back of his shirt. Ford jumped but didn’t release him.

“’S okay, poindexter.” Stan said with only a slight tremor in his voice. “We’re alive.”

“Stan,” Mabel sobbed the word and forced herself into the hug. Stan stiffened and then seemed to melt into the embrace. Waddles squealed all the more loudly and Mabel gasped.

“Waddles?”

“Got your pig, Graunty Mabel.” He pried himself free of their grasp and tugged Waddles free of his shirt. Mabel hugged him to her chest.

“You saved him for me!” Tears fell down her cheek as she smiled wetly at him. Stan blushed and picked at his jeans.

“Yeah, well,” He froze suddenly and lifted his head. “Look out!” He shouted. They twisted their heads to see what he was looking at and saw the head of the pteranodon climbing up the cliff.

They all scrambled to their feet and ran for the exit with utter abandon. Ford clicked his flashlight on and they ran through the tunnel. They ran past the melting dinosaurs, past the gigantic plants, and towards the rope they’d climbed down. The pteranodon was hot on their heels.

“We’ll never make it!” Fiddleford shrieked. Ford agreed and noticed that the bottom of the shaft they’d climbed down wasn’t normal.

“Geyser!” He gasped and pointed frantically. They all piled on the steaming rock and before they could brace themselves they were being blasted into the air.

* * *

They took a sap covered car ride back to the Mystery Shack. They ordered Chinese and crashed in the living room. Fiddleford gave Ford a high-six and Ford hadn’t stopped blushing since. They were both making notes about what they’d seen and generally geeking out. Stan was sitting next to Mabel who had Waddles in her lap.

He kept looking at the end table. He’d always known it was a T-rex skull, he’d just assumed it was a fake. Now… Well… he wasn’t so sure. It was weird to think they’d been sitting next to it all this time. 

He was just distracting himself. He felt guilty and he knew what he needed to do.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said. He’d needed to say it for a while but he hated saying it. He hated admitting he’d been wrong.

“Thank you.” She slung her arm around his shoulders and squeezed him into her side. She smelled like maple syrup. Knowing her she’d probably poured some on her Chinese. “I can’t believe you did all of that to get Waddles back.”

“I swear I didn’t know he’d get taken. We set up a net to trap the pteranodon but Waddles ran so the net missed the thing.” He sighed and slunk into the chair. Mabel hadn’t released him yet. Her sweater was soft and it was nice to be hugged. He wanted to let her know that she didn’t just have the pig. That they were there for her too, but he couldn’t figure out how. He just leaned into her side and sighed again.

Mabel squeezed his arm and turned her attention back to the tv. She didn’t move her arm from his shoulders.

Maybe he didn’t need to say anything at all. Maybe she already knew. He hoped she did.


	11. Dreamscaperers: Look out for the triangle guy!

Ford was writing a few notes down in the Journal while Stan poked at one of his numerous scabs.

“You should really change those band aids.” He commented absently as he turned the page. He added a note on the dinosaurs’ location as well as the fact that the sap would melt in 90 degree heat.

“Nah, they’re still sticking.”

Ford looked at his brother and raised an unamused eyebrow. “That’s hardly the proper criteria to judge a band aid on. Do you want an infection?”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Poindexter.” He leaned back in his seat and looked at what Ford was doing. “Say,” he leaned forward to inspect, “those are real neat.” He indicated the sketch of the baby pteranodon Ford had made. He was rather proud of the drawing and flushed with pride at his brother’s praise.

“Kids!” Mabel called from the living room. “Come here, quick!” She didn’t sound upset or scared but the twins hurried anyway. Ford tucked the journal into his pocket and they ran to see what was up. Mabel was sitting on the sofa in her house robe and pointing at the tv. They looked over to see a commercial in progress.

Bud Gleeful was dancing on screen and singing. “Who’s cute as a button, and always your friend? Lil’ O-L-D and M-to the-E!” He winked pronouncedly and smiled one of his signature ‘cute’ smiles. Ford shuddered and noticed Stan had tensed up.

“Ugh.” He muttered darkly. Ford agreed with the tone.

“He was over here yesterday trying to steal the Shack again.” She laughed and gave her head a shake. Fiddleford walked into the room with a screwdriver in his hand. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest. The commercial was bragging on Bud’s powerful abilities now.

Fiddleford huffed. “I caught him snooping in the flower beds Sunday.”

Wendy came up behind him and shook her head. “One time,” she confided with a frown, “I caught him stealing my moisturizer.” Stan and Mabel laughed at that. It hadn’t really occurred to Ford that no one in the Mystery Shack liked Bud. He knew why he hated him, and he very much hated the boy. He’d hurt and used Stan and kept trying to manipulate Stan into dating him. He’d said cruel things and terrified him deliberately. Ford was fairly certain he’d hate the boy forever for that. He could have forgiven Bud trying to choke him. He could not forgive the pain he’d caused Stan. The fake psychic was a monster as far as Ford was concerned.

It was reassuring to see so many people dislike him though. It made him feel less crazy for his dislike. Most of the town was crazy about Bud Gleeful.

The commercial continued. “Come on down to Lil’ Bud’s Tent of Telepathy, opening soon at this location!” The commercial cut away to show the Tent of Telepathy crushing on top of the Mystery Shack. Ford’s mouth popped open.

“What’s the big idea?” Stan demanded angrily. His hands formed into fist and he looked ready to punch Gleeful out.

“Don’t worry about that.” Mabel laughed. She was grinning like the commercial was the funniest thing she’d ever seen. “The only way he’s getting the Shack is by breaking in and stealing my deed.”

As if on cue, there was a loud crash from upstairs. It was coming from the direction of Mabel’s office.

“You mean like right now?” Wendy asked before they were all running upstairs.

Fiddleford was the first to reach the door, followed closely by Stan and Wendy. Fiddleford had the advantage of long legs. All four of them had the advantage of youth against Mabel. He threw the door open to reveal Bud Gleeful crouched on the floor in front of the safe.

“39? 27?” He punched the numbers in only for the safe to bonk at him. He hit the side of the safe in frustration. “Oh, heavens to Betsy!”

“Bud!” Stan and Ford snarled together. Mabel reached the room as Bud turned around.

“Well, well, it seems I summoned the whole Pines clan.” He stood up stiffly and propped his hands on his hip. “It would seem,” he purred, “we’ve entered a dangerous game of cat and mouse. But,” he added with an emphatic point at Mabel, “the question remains, who is the cat and who is the-“

Mabel didn’t wait for him to finish. She snapped her fingers and pointed at Fiddleford.

“Fiddsy, Broom.”

Fiddleford passed her the broom he had made. It had the body of a standard broom but he had added an extra arm to it. With a twist to the top of the handle the broom could hold the dustpan and sweep the dirt onto it by itself.

“My, my,” Bud murmured. He eyed the broom with a speculative look, “isn’t that something?” He looked to Fiddleford and the speculative look turned hungry. Ford stiffened and felt himself get angrier. He was suddenly very hot and aware of how hard his heart was beating. His hands fisted and he took a half step forward.

Mabel didn’t seem to like the look any more than he did. She swung the broom at Bud who promptly stepped back. She managed to hit him with it on the second swing and chased him outside.

“You mark my words!” Bud declared through angry tears as he was driven out the door. “One day, Mabel, I’m gonna get that combination! And once I steal that deed, you’ll never see the Mystery Shack again!” He raised his fist towards their Graunty and Stan tried to dart forward. Fiddleford and Wendy caught him before he could.

Mabel, in her housecoat, her slippers, and her crooked shiner’s cap, stood defiantly in the doorway. She propped her free hand on her hip and glared down at the small child.

“Bud Gleeful, get off my land before I release Stan on you.” Stan was being forcibly restrained by Wendy at the moment but she looked like she’d be all too happy to let him go. “I’m tired of you harassing my family. I won’t be so kind in the future. This is the  _ final _ warning.” She slammed the door shut and crossed her arm angrily over her chest. Wendy released Stan who glared at her.

“Why didn’t you let me hit him at least once?” He demanded.

Wendy huffed. “Because Blubs and Durland adore the little freak, as well as most of the town. He’d report it and then you’d be in trouble.” She looked at him hard and frowned. “You know kids can go to jail here, right?”

“What?” Ford sputtered. Wendy shrugged like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Yeah. There’s one jail here and anyone can get thrown in it.”

“Wendy’s right. Stan, please don’t punch anyone else unless you’re in actual danger. Bud isn’t worth getting thrown in jail over.” She looked at Fiddleford with a little frown. “Fiddsy?” He nodded to show he was listening. “Can you, uh,” she stalled out and bit her lip uncertainly. Fiddleford studied her face with a serious expression.

“I still gotta make some adjustments to the Cornicorn display.” He suggested with a small, fond smile. “It could take all day.” Ford felt his heart flutter in his chest and knew there was probably a stupid expression on his face. He had never met someone so kind and compassionate and smart. Anyone else would have been annoyed at Mabel’s over protective instincts. Fiddleford acknowledged them and worked with them. He was handsome and considerate and so easy to talk to.

Mabel smiled a little sadly. “Thanks.” She turned her attention to Wendy. “Are you hanging here today? If so-“

“I got to baby sit this evening. But I have a few hours free. I can help Fiddsy or go on home. I’m fine either way.” She tapped the axe that hung on her hip at all times. It would never have occurred to Ford to worry about her. He’d never met someone who seemed to have it more together.

“Go ahead home then. I’d rather you do that now than later.” She stepped away from the door before stopping. She looked back at Wendy. “Don’t do anything that’ll get you arrested, ‘kay?”

Wendy shrugged. Mabel laughed.

“That,” His Graunty pointed out with a genuine grin, “was not an agreement. I’m gonna need a yes.”

Wendy smiled toothily. “Tell you what, if I end up in jail, I’ll make sure it was well worth it.”

Stan snorted. “Don’t worry, Mabel. We’d bust her out.” He grinned at Ford. “Right?”

“Of course.”

“As if a jail could hold Wendy Cordory.” Fiddleford said fondly. He shook his head a little and straightened his tool belt. “I’ll get on that display.” He turned and headed out of the room. Wendy followed him towards the front area to get her stuff. Ford and Stan stood uneasily. He hadn’t noticed Mabel was eyeing them until the teenagers had left.

“Uh,” Stan started, “do ya think we’re actually in danger?”

Mabel was quick to shake her head. “No.” She said it too loudly and flinched. “I just.” She sighed and seemed frustrated with something. “Just be careful, okay? The Gleefuls are crazy and this town is crazy and I don’t want you two to get in trouble.” She dropped her hands on their heads. The weight was reassuring and settling. He liked the way it felt. Liked that she cared enough to warn them. They didn’t need the warning, of course, but it was nice to have someone care. Ma cared, he knew she did, but she had trouble showing it sometimes. She’d grown up with an aloof family and struggled with physical affection. Pa, well… Ford didn’t know what to think. His dad was quiet and stern. He had a hot temper and was quick to give a cold shoulder. He’d smacked them since they were little but it had gotten worse the older they got. He wasn’t convinced their father loved them. He thought he might like Ford occasionally but he wasn’t even certain he liked Stan.

He shrugged off the thoughts and looked up at Mabel. She was studying Stan’s face and Ford felt himself deflate a little. Mabel always seemed to prefer Stanley.

“Change your bandages, Gumball.” She ruffled their hair and released them.

Stan sighed and headed towards the bathroom. Ford went to the kitchen. Fiddleford was in there with an arm full of leftovers.

“Hey, do you know where the corn cobs from lunch are?” Fiddleford looked at him with an inquisitive smile. Ford frowned and tried to remember. It was hard to think around Fiddleford.

“I think… outside. Graunty Mabel wanted to save them for Waddles later.”

“Let’s get ‘em.” He put the leftovers back and grabbed his screwdriver off the counter. Ford followed after him confused. Fiddleford looked at him and smiled. He promptly blushed. “Mabel would rather no one go out alone with Bud swearing vengeance and all.” Fiddleford shrugged a shoulder as he opened the door outback. “I doubt she’d find out but it’s easier to go along.”

They walked about ten feet when Fiddleford held up a hand. Ford promptly stopped and looked up at the teenager to see what was going on. The teenager held a finger to his lip. Ford held his breath and tried to listen past the pounding in his ears.

“Entangulum.” Lil’ Bud’s voice drifted through the air. It was coming from the trees nearby. Fiddleford caught his eyes and motioned towards the sound. He put his fingers to his lips and began to tip toe towards the sound.

Ford followed suit as stealthily as he could. They reached the trees and peered through them to see Bud Gleeful kneeling in the middle of a circle of candles. He’d drawn something on the grass and had a picture of Graunty Mabel in the center of the image. He’d painted a red x over her eyes. He was chanting in a deep voice. “Vene foris videntis omnium!”

“Latin?” He whispered to Fiddleford. He shrugged.

“Sounds like it. I’m rusty on my Latin.”

Ford was not rusty and translated. “All seeing one, come to the door! Roughly.”

Bud suddenly doubled over with a grunt. He grasped his stomach and lifted his head. His eyes were glowing blue. He growled and opened his mouth. It was a much deeper voice that poured out of him.

“Egassem Sdrawkcab. Egassem Sdrawkcab. Egassem Sdrawkcab! Egassem Sdrawkcab! Egassem Sdrawkcab!” He got louder and louder as he spoke the meaningless words. He clutched himself tighter and rose back to his knees. The air grew cold enough that they could see their breath. Ford shuddered and moved closer to Fiddleford. The teenager grabbed his shoulder and knelt closer. The vibrant green of the trees around them seemed to fade. It took Ford a moment to even notice it. He blinked but it didn’t change anything. The color had been sapped out of their surroundings. A nearby deer started to spring away but froze midleap. There was a blinding flash of light and a loud crack. Ford blinked the brightness away and saw the strangest thing he’d seen in Gravity Falls yet.

A yellow triangle was floating in front of Bud. His bottom half looked like it was made of bricks before morphing into a solid triangle. He had a single, enormous eyeball in the center of his face. He had a bowtie on his middle, and thin, noodley, black arms and legs. He had a top hat on his head and a cane in his right hand.

The creature laughed out loud but it didn’t have a mouth. Ford wasn’t sure how he made the sound. Then it spoke.

“Oh, oh, Gravity Falls! It is good to be back!” He floated around Bud as he spoke who had the good sense to look alarmed. The triangle flashed as he spoke. “Name’s Bill Cipher, and I take it you’re some kind of living ventriloquist dummy?” It then bounced back a little and raised its arms and legs as though it found something really funny. Its weird laugh filled the hollow. “I’m just kidding, I know who you are, Bud!”

Bud stood up shakily. He was sweating and looked terrified. “W-what are you?” He demanded. Ford’s mouth popped open. This idiot had just summoned something and didn’t know what it was? “H-how do you know my name?”

Bill Cipher laughed again. Ford hated the sound. It made his skin crawl. Fiddleford wasn’t even breathing next to him.

“Oh,” Bill exclaimed, “I know lots of things!” His triangular body started to flash with different images. He recognized a few pictures of town, a picture of what looked like his journal, and a picture of the pyramids. He turned off the mirage of pictures as quickly as he had started it. “Hey,” he said suddenly. He extended his hand towards the frozen deer, “Look what I can do!” He curled his fingers in and the deer’s mouth popped open. The deer’s teeth flew out of his mouth and into Bill’s hands. Ford clasped his own hand over his mouth to keep from making a noise of horror. He felt sick.

Bill dumped the teeth in bud’s hands. “Deer teeth! For you, kid!” He laughed manically. Gideon shrieked and dropped the teeth on the ground. He looked up at Bill in horror.

“You’re insane!”

Bill shrugged his arms. “Sure I am, what’s your point?” He swung his hand and the teeth went back into the deer’s mouth. The action seemed to free it from its petrification. It bounded into the woods and away. Ford didn’t blame it.

Bud seemed to turn his fright into anger. He stood tall and fisted his hands. “Listen to me, demon!” He shouted. Bill turned to look at him. “I have a job for you. I need you to enter the mind of Mabel Pines and steal the code to her safe.”

Ford and Fiddleford both gasped. Ford’s was muffled by his hand. They both froze with the fear that they’d be heard. Thankfully, they weren’t.

Bill laughed. It ended abruptly and he grew brighter. “Wait…” he murmured. “Mabel pines?” His body flashed to a picture of Mabel’s eyes and then a picture of her shooting star emblem. He turned his eye back on Bud. “You know what, kid? You’ve convinced me! I’m sold!” He floated nearer to Bud who flinched. “I’ll help you with this and in return, you can help me with something I’ve been working on! We’ll work out the details later.” He leaned forward so there was hardly any space between Bud and him.

Bud didn’t even hesitate. He shoved his hand forward. “Deal!”

Bill’s hand lit with a blue fire. He grabbed hold of Bud’s with it. He gave the small hand a firm shake and hten released him. He sprang up into the air.

“Well, time to invade Mabel’s mind! This should be fun.” A bright light appeared behind him. He floated up towards it. “Remember: reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, bye!” He disappeared into the light. It got intensely brighter and then burst away. Color returned to the world around them. 

Bud started to laugh 

* * *

Stan put the first aid kit away and walked into the living room. Graunty Mabel had fallen asleep on the couch at some point. She was never a peaceful sleeper. She mumbled a lot and snored. She also always looked vaguely unhappy. Not necessarily like she was having a nightmare, but like she was fighting a sad memory.

He could never decide whether or not to wake her up. He never hesitated to wake up Ford when his brother was suffering a bad or sad dream. But Mabel always seemed to sleep like that.

Before he could quite make up his mind Ford and Fiddsy were bursting into the room. They were both pale and shaky. Stan stiffened and fingered his bronze knuckles. He felt like he might need them.

“What is it?” He demanded. They skidded to a stop in front of him.

“We gootta help Mabel!” Fiddleford heaved.

“What?” He spun to look at his Graunty. She was still fast asleep. She looked a little less happy though.

“Some demon thing named Bill said he was going to break into her mind and steal the combination to the safe!” Ford explained. He pulled the journal out of his pocket and flipped through the pages. His hands were shaking and he was having trouble with the pages.

Demon? What were they even talking about?

Ford stopped on the darkest page of the journal. The author had painted over whatever was originally there with quick, sharp strokes. He wrote in an angry red text. Ford read the words out loud. Looking at the page gave Stan the chills. It looked like something a insane person would write.  


“Beware Bill, the most powerful and dangerous creature I’ve ever encountered. Whatever you do, never let him enter your mind.”

Stan was still confused. “I don’t understand. What are you saying?” Enter your mind? What nonsense was that? How did something enter your mind?  


Ford huffed in irritation and fear at the fact that Stan wasn't getting it. Stan gave him an annoyed look. Fiddleford took point and continued the explanation before they could start arguing.

“Bud summoned this Bill thing. He told him to get the combination out of Mabel’s mind. They shook and the demon poofed away. Probably to get here and get the combo.”

The lights in the room flickered dramatically. All three of them turned to Graunty Mabel who gave a loud groan in her sleep. A shadow materialized on the wall above her head and hovered there for a second. Stan gave a gasp of alarm and jolted forward. Ford caught his arm. The shadow grew darker and descended to Mabel’s head. It hovered behind her and two shadow hands appeared. Mabel released a pained cry and her eyes shot open. They were glowing a bright blue. The light was bright enough that he couldn’t make out her actual eyes. She writhed and moaned in obvious pain.

Stan wrenched his arm free and dove for his Graunty. He wouldn’t leave her in that pain. He’d punch the shadow in the face if he had to. It was Fiddleford that caught him this time. The teenager’s arms wrapped around him midair and jerked him backwards. The stupid handyman had been raised on a pig farm. He was good at holding onto squirming and writhing forms.

“Wait,” Ford insisted. Stan realized he’d said that several times. He’d been too focused on the pain his Graunty was in. His brother put a hand on his arm and looked at him pleadingly. “The journal says it’s possible to follow the demon into a person’s mind. We can stop him there!”

Stan forced himself to relax. Fiddleford didn’t release him. “Hurry up, Ford.”

It took them about five minutes to set everything up. A thunderstorm came while they were preparing and knocked out the lights or they’d have had it done quicker. They set the candles in the proper positions and gathered around Mabel.

“Okay,” Ford held the book up to the candle. “We have to put our hands on her head,” He laid his hand on top of her head. Stan and Fiddleford did as well. Ford blushed when their hands touched and Stan had to work hard not to roll his eyes. Now was hardly the time to get flustered over a crush. “Now,” he managed with a thick voice, “I just, uh, have to read this.”

“Go on, Ford.” Stan urged. “Read it.” He was scared this wouldn’t work. He couldn’t stand the idea of not being able to help Mabel. He was a protective person, especially of his family. Mabel had taken very little time to worm her way into his heart. He needed to get this demon out of her yesterday.

Ford cleared his throat. “Videntus omnium. Magister mentium. Magnesium ad hominem. Magnum opus. Habeas corpus! Inceptus Nolanus overratus! Magister mentium! Magister mentium! MAGISTER MENTIUM!” His voice grew louder as he spoke. His eyes lit up with blue fire and a strange sensation hit Stan. He felt cold and extremely hot. He was blinded by a bright blue light. His chest constricted and then he suddenly felt a tremendous pressure against his skin. The pressure released almost instantly and he felt himself standing on grass. He blinked away the blur from the bright light and felt his mouth pop open.

They were outside the Mystery Shack, but it wasn’t right. The world around them was all black and white, like some old movie. The three of them were still colorful, but they were the only things.

Also, that was the Mystery Shack, but it also wasn’t. the overall shape was the same – and he’d never seen another house shaped like that – but it was missing the signage. It also was broken in a lot of places. The trees around them were all barren. There was a glowing orb in the sky that he thought was a moon at first glance. He looked closer and realized it was some sort of snow globe. It was cracked down the middle. To the right was what looked like a teeter totter. It had been turned on it’s side and broken at the base. Broken cameras littered the ground, along with ripped sweaters, broken pens, ripped up canvas shreds, and shredded film spools. To the left was a giant structure that looked like some kind of machine. It was in pieces.

“Did it work?” He asked to no one in particular.

“It must have.” Ford answered.

He looked around. “You mean we’re inside Mabel’s mind?” He frowned. It was too dull to be Mabel’s mind. “I’d have expected more glitter or something.” This was… depressing.

“There are stars.” Ford murmured. He pointed overhead. Stan craned his head to see what his brother was pointing at. Overhead there was a single constellation in the sky. The seven stars that made up the little dipper lit the sky. A glowing line connected each of the stars together, and there were an additional five stars around the constellation. It made him sad for some reason. It was taking up most of the sky but it looked wrong. Distorted somehow.

He shuddered. “So what did Bill look like?”

“Like a triangle.” Fiddleford said. Ford nodded his head.

“Yeah, we gotta look out for him. Supposedly we can-“

“Yeah!” A new voice spoke. A yellow triangle appeared on the steps of the Mystery Shack. It was holding a cane in its hand and had a top hat on its head. It was familiar somehow but Stan couldn’t place it. The triangle laughed. “Look out for the triangle guy!

“It’s him!” Fiddleford exclaimed. “It’s Bill!”

“LEAVE MY GRAUNTY ALONE!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. He charged towards the triangle and extended his arms to tackle it. He wrapped his arms around the things middle. Everything went very bright and then he found himself hunched over with nothing in his arms. He was also facing Ford and Fiddleford now.

What?

Ford reached for him with shaking hands. He stepped closer to his twin and maneuvered himself in the front. 

“Ah,” Bill hummed. He had no mouth so Stan wasn’t sure how he could talk. It wasn’t right. “Mabel’s family, we meet at last. Glasses, Mackerel, Sixer.” He laughed. Stan felt a dark anger twist his gut. No one. No. One. Called his brother Sixer but him. It was affectionate and loving when it came out of his mouth. It was their special thing. It was cruel when others used it. They meant it to hurt Ford. To remind him of his ‘freakishness.’

Wait, had the triangle just called him a fish? And they were all wearing glasses. Why pick on Fiddleford for it? Or was he Glasses and Fiddleford Mackerel?

Why did he even care? 

The triangle laughed again. “I was expecting to see you three. Where’s icy?” He seemed to shrug as if he didn’t care. “Whatcha tryin’ to do, Mackerel? Think you can block Sixer from me?” He laughed again and raised his fingers in the shape of a gun. A bright beam of light issued from the tip of his finger and hit Ford square in the chest. He screamed and lurched towards Ford. Fiddleford grabbed his twin by the shoulder as Ford released a pained gasp. He was pale, but he was still standing. Ford poked at the hole and swayed a little. 

“What do you want with her?” Fiddleford demanded hotly. He kept a secure grip on Ford who was now inspecting his chest curiously. Okay. The dork was probably okay then.

“I want her memory of the combination. Somewhere in this shack there’s a memory of her entering the combination into the safe. I’m going to find it and then Bud will pay a handsome fee.” 

“Not if we stop you.” Stan stated defiantly. He stepped forward and raised his fists in the defensive stance. He’d lost track of the number of times he’d assumed this position in the last month. This was one of the first things they taught you. They’d show you the position and how to stay loose. Then they’d proceed to poke your defense and show you how wrong you were doing it. It was anything but fun and Stan had learned the lesson well. 

Bill’s laugh echoed around them. He grew brighter and brighter until it hurt to look at him. He morphed from yellow to blue. 

“That’s real funny, Mackerel. I’m the Master of the Mind.” His body tilted slightly as though he were cocking his head. “I even know what you’re thinking. Right. Now.” 

That was a con if Stan had ever heard one. Still… You could learn a lot about a conman from their cons. 

“Really,” he dragged the word out degradingly. It almost always worked on Sixer. He had a feeling most smart guys were the same. They  _ hated _ being made to sound like they were stupid. “Prove it, you giant nacho.” 

The triangle flashed a vivid red and snapped his fingers. The ‘mindscape’ flashed blue and suddenly a video game figure was bouncing beside him. 

Huh. Had he been thinking of Rumble McSkirmish? Well, regardless, he was here now. Bill could hurt them and create things then. 

“Is he real?” Ford asked. He reached up and poked the bouncing pixelated man. “Ow!” He drew his hand back sharply and shook it. “You’re sharp.”

“Greetings, child-boy! I am Rumble McSkirmish, from the USA!” He punched the air, annunciating as he did. “Punch! Kick! Punch! Kick!”

What was this place?

Bill turned yellow again. “You're out of your league, kids. Turn around now before you see something you might regret. Later, suckers!” He flew backwards and bust through the wall of the dream Mystery Shack. He left a triangle shaped hole behind.

“Are you alright?” He grabbed Ford and pulled him from Fiddleford’s grasp. Ford shrugged.

“I think so?” He poked himself again. “It hurt when it happened but I think that’s because I expected it to hurt.” He inhaled shakily and smiled weakly. Stan felt ill and wasn’t sure what to do. He’d thought they were exaggerating earlier when they said it was a demon. This wasn’t like the Gobblewonker or the Gnomes, the Pteranodon, or even the Trickster. This was something in the mind. Could you even harm it by punching?

“Come on.” Fiddleford finally said. “We’ll go inside and see what’s going on.” They all looked at the house. “After all, it’s Mabel’s mind. How bad could it be?”

* * *

Ford felt himself relaxing as he walked in the Shack. It looked like it belonged to Mabel. There were bookshelves everywhere, and while that wasn’t Mabelish, the contents of the bookshelf most definitely were. Each shelf was loaded with scrapbooks. He pulled the first one he saw off the shelf and opened it up. Fiddleford and Stan crowded near him as well as Rumble. The inside of the scrapbook came to life as it opened. He saw a picture of a much, much younger Mabel. Like maybe twelve. She looked a bit like Stan. She had the same mischievous smile. Or. Well, Stan had the smile. She had brown, curly hair and a star sticker on her cheek. She was holding a cat under one arm and climbing a tree. She was wearing an oversized sweater with a ghost on the front of it. She’d stitched the words ‘I’m Bootiful’ under it. 

“Faster, Macaroni! We’re gonna beat him.” She got near the top and grabbed hold of a thin branch. It snapped under her hands and she started to fall to the ground. The cat jumped out of her hands as she fell and grabbed onto the tree. A crack filled the air and she moaned. “Mabel!” Another voice shouted out. Mabel was curling into a ball and started to cry. Ford shut the book.

It had been in color. He hadn’t realized that when he was watching it.

Stan was rubbing his arm. He’d broken it a few years ago. Ford imagined it was probably a phantom pain. His brother noticed his gaze and dropped his arm. He frowned uncomfortably and huffed. 

“So, what’s the plan? We just keep opening books?” 

“We gotta find the code before Bill does.” 

“Then I’d say we were looking at the wrong shelf.” Fiddleford pointed at. He indicated the jumble of letters over the bookshelf. 

“Huh?” Stan asked with a frown. “That’s just nonsense.” Ford hadn’t even noticed it. The letters were  _ Wkluwhhqwk Vxpphu _ .

“Nope. It’s a cipher. Mabel uses them in notes. She’s, uh,” Fiddleford struggled to find the right word. Finally he just shrugged. “Paranoid. The letters a D typically.”

“D?” 

“Yep. That would read ‘Thirteenth Summer.”

Ford felt his eyes light up and couldn’t shrink his grin. Every time he thought he understood how smart Fiddleford was he just proved himself smarter. 

“You did that in your head?”

Fiddleford blushed and nodded his head sheepishly. “Yeah. She uses it a lot. I’ve memorized its alphabet.” 

“Okay. So all the shelves are organized. Well, Fiddsy, we’re gonna need you to translate. We gotta find the right shelf and get that memory.” Stan said. 

“And punch!” Rumble added. Everyone ignored him.

FIddleford studied the shelves. “This one is called, ‘Things to remember.” 

“That’s vague and potentially unhelpful.” Ford mused. He went towards the shelf and pulled a book off. Stan did as well.

The memory was of a dorm room. Mabel was sitting on a bed with her hair in a bun. She had a paintbrush holding it in place. She was talking on an old fashioned phone while she painted her toenails a neon green.

“But Grenda,” She whined, “you were going to come to the party! How am I supposed to celebrate being twenty one if you’re not coming?” She listened to whatever the other person was saying. “Well tell the Baron to cool it.” She giggled. “He’s so clingy.” She laughed and shook her head. “Whatever. Have fun with the rich and famous. Candy will be there so that’ll be good enough.” She laughed and then her smile fell. “No. It’ll just be the two of us. Yeah.” She set the toe nail polish aside and hugged her knees. She looked small and sad. Ford shut the book and put it up. He wasn’t sure why Mabel would need to remember that.

Stan was pale. He promptly shut his book and shoved it forcibly back on the shelf. He met Ford’s gaze and glared darkly. 

“I am going to  _ kill _ Gideon Gleeful.”

“What was it?” His eyes darted to the scrapbook. He was very tempted to tug it out. 

“That jackass has followed her! He threatened her!” Stan’s hands were fisting and his face was turning red. “He’s scared her! Deliberately. I’ll-”

“Later.” Ford grabbed Stan and tugged him forward. Fiddleford had moved onto another shelf. 

They looked through dozens of memories. Each giving them a tiny picture of Mabel. She had been a bright, bouncy person. She seemed to love puns and be a natural salesperson. She had been friends with Candy and Grenda for as far back as he could find. He saw pictures of Soos as far back as a Toddler. Wendy had been a regular fixture since she was thirteen and Fiddleford had been at the Mystery shack since he was ten. He’d been caught tinkering with her cash register. He made the old model calculate cash automatically and she had hired him on the spot. 

But no safe. Ford felt guilty with every memory he opened. He was spying on his Graunty’s life. He’d be horrified if someone else was doing this to him. 

It also hurt a little. He’d seen at least five memories of Stan and Mabel. She was laughing at his jokes, ruffling his hair, kissing his cheek. There weren’t any of those with him. 

Did she even like him? 

He lost sight of Stan after a while and wandered over to a different shelf. The memories here were all in red scrapbooks. He saw one with a six fingered hand on it and couldn’t resist himself. He pulled it off the shelf and opened it up.

Mabel, his proper Graunty Mabel, was climbing up the stairs. It was late and dark. She was obviously trying to be quiet. She reached the top of the stairs and opened the door to the attic. She peeked in and smiled at what she saw. Stan was sprawled out on his stomach snoring loudly like always. Ford was at the little desk she’d given them. He had a book open and had fallen asleep on it. He was mumbling something. Mabel tiptoed towards him and looked down. There was a fond smile on her lips that was tinged with a hint of sorrow. He could hear himself now and blushed. He was mumbling the digits of Pi. She put her hand on his head and brushed his hair back. It was a tender, affectionate motion.

“Why do you always push yourself so hard?” She murmured. She took his glasses off and set them on the desk. She pulled his chair away from the desk and lifted him up. He hadn’t realized she was strong enough to do that. 

“You know,” She said and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “you’re already brilliant. You don’t have to prove it. People will try and tell you that you have to but you don’t have to. People who tell you that grades and degrees are what prove you’re smart are jerkfaces and should not be listened to. Get those things because you want them. Not because they’re expected.” She carried him to his bed and tucked him in. “You’re brilliant and you’re kind.” She smoothed his hair back and stood up. “You’re pretty fantastic.” She booped his nose fondly and went back to the desk. She fetched his glasses and set them by the bed so he could find them in the morning. She pressed a little kiss to his forehead and sat back on her heels. There were tears in her eyes. 

“I love you, Fordsy. So much. Sleep well.” She rose up and, with one last look back at them, she left the room. She stopped suddenly and her eyes widened. “Ford?”

She was looking directly at him. Not memory him, real him.

“What happened to your chest, Gumdrop?” He stiffened. Of course. Even after all that she still got them confused.

Wait. She’d called him Ford. And Stan’s nickname was Gumball. Had she given him a nickname?

Oh, she’d asked him a question. “Uh,” he mumbled unhelpfully. 

She put her hand on his shoulder. “Let’s fix it, huh?” She hovered her hand over his chest and the hole sealed up.

“How’d you do that?” He looked up at her brown eyes and found her smiling. 

“It’s the mind, Gumdrop.” She chucked his chin. “Imagination reigns supreme.”

Stan called his name. He smiled at his Graunty and shut the book. His hands were trembling. 

Stan was the only person who had ever told him he was worth something just because he was Ford. Everyone else was always saying he had to do something to be important. They’d praise his grades and accomplishments like they were the important thing. It had happened enough times that he believed it. 

He shook the thoughts away and went towards his brother. Stan was holding a scrapbook in his hands. Rumble was right behind him. Fiddleford joined them.

“I got it!” He gushed. “What should we do with it?”

“Destroy it?” Ford suggested. Fiddleford extended his hands. 

“Let me.” Stan passed him the book. He was looking at Ford now. He smiled at him and made a circle motion around his chest. Ford smiled back and nodded.

“Hey, did ya… find… it.” Fiddleford approached their group and stopped when he saw the other Fiddleford. Oh God. Ford’s body went cold with terrible realization. The Fiddleford who was holding the scrapbook was a fake. It was Bill.

The triangle dropped Fiddleford’s form and appeared in his typical yellow shape. 

“Boy, you kids sure are gullible! I knew you'd lead me straight to the code!” He flashed brighter as he laughed. “It's funny how dumb you are.”

All three boys bristled. Stan looked like he was about to jump the triangle.

Bill lifted the scrapbook. “The combination to Mabel’s safe. Boy, that was even easier than I thought!“ He floated upwards. “Later suckers!” He disappeared through the ceiling.

“No!” Stan shouted. He grabbed his hair in panic. “What do we do?!” 

“Follow him!” Ford declared. He looked up at the ceiling and remembered Mabel’s words.  _ Imagination reigns supreme. _ He imagined himself flying and quite suddenly he was. Stan gasped.

“How are you doing that?”

“Imagination. Just think it and it can happen.” Stan and Fiddleford joined him in the air. They flew up and through the ceiling.

Bill was speaking to Bud. There was an image of him in Bill’s chest. He had the scrapbook open in his hands. “Alright,” He said, “The numbers are 13, 44,” the book was suddenly hit out his hand by a gumball from Stan. His twin then threw another book on the ground that the code scrapbook fell into. Mabel was standing in front of some huge pit with Stanley.

_ This, _ she said with a laugh in the memory,  _ is the bottomless pit. _

“Ha!” Stan shouted victoriously. 

“You did it!” Ford exclaimed. He fist pumped the air as Fiddleford jumped. 

“The Shack is safe!” The inventor shouted. 

Bud flushed a bright, angry red. “The deal's off!” He snarled at Bill.

Bill flashed a brighter yellow. “Wa-wait! No! Wait!”

Bud didn’t listen. “I'm switchin' to plan B!” The screen turned off and Bill’s body shattered. The trio looked at each other in triumph.

“YOU!” Bill reappeared a dark red color. His eye was black and locked on Stan. “You can't even imagine what you just cost me!” He started to grow larger, towering over them. “Do you have any idea what I'm like...” His voice dropped to a horrifying low, demonic, snarl. “WHEN I'M MAD?!”

They backed up on instinct. Bill flashed brighter and all the light around them went dark. The ground shattered beneath their feet and they were free falling. They landed hard and abruptly on a stone surface.

“EAT NIGHTMARES!” 

The ground dropped from under Stan. A dark, towering figure came up over him and started to swing at him as he fell. Fiddleford was confronted by a terrible looking monster with glowing eyes. It looked vaguely like the gremoblin but it was much fiercer.

Ford didn’t have time to focus on them though because he was seeing his own nightmare. The gobblewonker stood in front of him with its huge mouth opened wide. Stan’s shirt was hanging from its teeth in bloody rags.

_ That’s not what happened. _ His logical mind supplied.  _ That’s Stan over to the right. This is an illusion. _

Imagination. Imagination. He just had to think it a way. He could do this. He looked up at the giant monster and shook his head. He believed in all sorts of wonderful things, but he didn’t believe in this. He shoved it backwards with his mind and the monster moved. 

Ha.

He made it turn around and had it attack Bill. The demon recoiled in shock. Ford turned his focus on Stan and dissipated the shadow man.

“You can fly, Stan!” He reminded. He shrank the gremoblin like creature as well. Bill screamed. Stan had just hit him with a giant, sparkly baseball bat. 

“For Graunty Mabel!” He shouted. Ford joined in with a laser gun. He made it shoot rainbows in honor of Mabel. He shot a hole into the center of Bill’s chest and earned a high-six of approval from Stan. Fiddleford dreamed up a giant robot and brought him around to start wailing on the triangle.

“No, no, no! ENOUGH!!” Bill screeched the words and everything around them turned a blinding white. Bill turned yellow again and shrank to his normal size. 

“You know,” he drawled, “I've been impressed with you guys. You are cleverer than you look. So I'm gonna let you kids off the hook. You might come in handy later. BUT KNOW THIS: A darkness approaches. A day will come in the future when everything you care about will change! Until then I'll be watching you!” He grew large again. “I'LL BE WATCHING YOU!” He disappeared with a blinding flash.

“We did it!” He wasn’t sure who shouted it. He turned to high-six his brother and found that his hand was fading. It freaked him out for a second until he remembered they were in a dream. Mabel was probably waking up.

* * *

They woke up on the floor. The candles had burned low while they were asleep and it was nearly dark now. Stan sat up stiffly and swallowed. He felt all cotton mouthed.

“Kids?” Mabel was rubbing her eyes and yawning. Stan adjusted his glasses and smiled at her. They’d done it!

“It worked!” Ford exclaimed. His brother sat up at his side and promptly tucked the journal away into his coat.

“What worked?” Mabel dropped her hands and peered blearily at the twins. She smiled a little sleepily and yawned again. “I musta fallen asleep.”

Stan popped up from the floor and grabbed his Graunty in a hug. He’d seen too many of her memories not to. He still wanted to kill Gideon for the way he had stalked her. He’d only looked a three memories of the conman and he’d been freaked out. No matter she disliked the Gleefuls’ so much.

“Ooh,” Mabel hummed, “surprise hugs! Very nice.” Fiddleford joined Stan in the surprise hug. Ford hung back shyly. The hug was warm and tight. Everything a hug should be.

“What’ve you been-“ She cut her words off sharply as an explosion of stairs rattle the house.

“No!” Ford gasped and fled out of the room. Stan and the other were on his heels. “Plan B!”

Stan felt his stomach drop. Bud had said something about a Plan B. What if they were too late? They couldn’t have beaten Bill just to fail now!

They reached the top of the stairs and threw the door open to Mabel’s office. Bud was standing in front of the open safe. Smoke was thick in the room but not thick enough to obscure the deed that was clutched in his hands.

“Ha!” He screeched, “The Mystery Shack is mine!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting a little bit of Mabel's backstory here. In my opinion she'd have been friends with Candy and Grenda for pretty much her whole life. If any of the memories confused you, let me know. I'll clarify what I can ;)


	12. Gideon Rises: Get the Owl Trowel

Stan couldn’t stop staring at the ceiling. Candy Chu had stuck a lot of glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. She’d arranged them into constellations. He’d spent an hour or so figuring out what each one was. He’d always loved star charts. He’d gotten it in his head a few years ago that he needed to know constellations to sail. He’d forgotten that they had gps for boats now. He'd spent an entire summer learning about them.  


The little dipper was directly over his head. It kept making him think of Mabel’s mind. Her memories seemed to be stuck in a loop in his mind. It was weird to think that her memories were now his memories. She’d been alone in so many of them. Alone and sad. Even when there were others around she didn’t seem fully alive. Just quietly part of the crowd. He’d never really seen her that way. She always seemed vibrant and loud. Utterly alive and fantastic. But… did she see herself that way? It made sense that your memories would be from your point of view. What would his memories look like to other people?

He sighed softly and tried to roll over. That put him face to face with Ford. His brother was fast asleep. He’d promptly conked out when they’d lain down. Not that Stan blamed him. He was glad his brother could sleep. God knows he needed the rest. Ford always pushed himself too hard. He stayed up stupid late and got up stupid early.

He exhaled noisily and rolled onto his back. How long did glow in the dark stars stay on?

He closed his eyes and tried to still his mind. He felt like such a failure. It was his fault this was happening. He should have just dated Bud. He was a creep but he was crazy about Stan. Maybe… maybe if he’d said yes they wouldn’t be at Candy Chu’s house.

Maybe Mabel wouldn’t have lost the shack.

A soft sound made his eyes open. They were in sleeping bags in front of the sofa. They’d let Mabel have the sofa. She’d tried to argue with them about it but they wouldn’t hear it. She was a girl and an old person. She automatically got the bed by their logic.

The noise, a sniff perhaps, happened again. He held his breath and listened really hard. His fears were confirmed a second later. It was Graunty Mabel, and she was crying. She probably thought they were both asleep. Well. She was half right.

Tears stung at Stan’s own eyes. He wanted to get up and hug her. He wanted to comfort her and say something to make it better. He just couldn’t think of what to say.

He closed his eyes and let his tears fall. He vowed silently to get the shack back. It was his fault it was gone and he would not rest until it was his Graunty’s again.

* * *

“Stan?” Ford passed his brother a plate of confetti pancakes. Candy had put extra sprinkles in them in an attempt to lift her best friend’s mood. Mabel had given a large, fake smile and thanked her. Stan hadn’t left the living room. He was sitting in a chair staring out the window. It had been two days like this. Stan growing quieter as the bags under his eyes got worse. He’d put on a show anytime Mabel was around. He’d be all smiles and loud jokes. It was his typical defense mechanism.

“Huh?” His brother started and turned his head just enough to see Ford. He offered him a cursory smile.

“Breakfast.” He passed his brother the plate and climbed on the arm of the chair. He knew his brother felt like this was his fault. He also knew his brother wasn’t one to be left alone. His thoughts grew dark quickly when he was left alone for long periods of time.

“Did ya see the news, Sixer?” Ford shook his head as he chewed on his own pancake. “Bud’s holding a press conference today. He’s announcing his plans for the Shack.”

“Are we gonna crash it?” Stan swallowed thickly and shrugged. “He won’t let us close.” He put the plate down. He’d only eaten two bites. “Blubs and Durland have it on lock down. I rode past yesterday and they chased me.” He wrapped his arms around his chest. Ford chewed his breakfast carefully. He could tell Stan was about to spill the actual beans. He couldn’t help without knowing what the problem was.

“I heard Mabel on the phone with Ma this morning.” Stan whispered the words but Ford still heard them. He choked on his bite of pancake. Stan pounded on his back and nearly knocked him off the chair.

“What did she say?” He demanded. They hadn’t talked about the possibility. Ford was worried that if they did it would suddenly become real. He didn’t want to go home. There was so much they still had to discover. He hadn’t even figured out who the Author was. He’d only see a few of the creatures listed. They couldn’t leave Mabel homeless. Candy would take care of her, but this wasn’t her home.

“I couldn’t hear everything. She said she’d send us home if the money ran out.” He looked at the door to make sure they were alone. “But,” He leaned closer to Ford and lowered his voice, “I didn’t see her take any money out of the Shack.”

Mabel didn’t typically uses the bank. She used cash. She had lots of it because of the shack.

“Come on.” He put the pancake on the window seal and got up. “We’re going to that press conference.”

* * *

They were surrounded by a sea of people wearing Lil’ Bud memorabilia. Everyone was gushing over the fake psychic and it made Ford feel ill.

They had been kicked out of their home and most of the town didn’t seem to care. There were a few people in their corner. The Cordorys, the Ramierezs, Susan, Gorney, Chu, and Fiddleford were all standing near them. But, most of the town seemed entirely okay with everything.

He couldn’t understand it. How had the conman convinced the entire town that he was psychic. Did everyone fall for his fake readings? They weren’t that good of cons. They were all so… obvious.

Ford hadn’t seen any of them since they’d been booted out. Susan was hanging near Stan and whispering something to him. He was nodding his head at whatever she said.

Ford kept stealing glances at Fiddleford. Something about the lanky teenager seemed off. He’d hardly spoken at all. He had a vacant stare and was blinking slowly. It unnerved him.

Bud was rambling about turning everything into Budland. It sounded like a beer theme park. Ford wasn’t really paying attention until he pulled a sheet off of what looked like a crate.

Waddles was stuck in a giant metal crate and dressed up like Bud.

“Bud junior!” Bud declared cheerfully. Ford’s mouth popped open. Stan made a sound like an angry pteranodon and charged towards the stage. Soos and Wendy followed him. Susan looked stricken. Ford hesitated and then followed his brother.

“Give him back!” Stan snarled. He vaulted up onto the stage and grabbed hold of the cage.

“Stanley Pines.” Bud greeted with his stupid, large, smile. “My, my, you look good, as always.” Stan ignored him and dragged the cage. “I’d stop that, unless you want to be arrested for theft of property.”

Ford reached the stage and climbed up next to Stan. Wendy was in a glaring match with Blubs and Durland. Soos wasn’t tall enough to get up and he couldn’t reach the steps without moving in front of Blubs and Durland.

“You may have the Shack but Waddles belongs to Mabel.” Ford huffed. He didn’t like the way Bud was looking at Stan. It was like he was eating him with his eyes. “She won him at Pioneer day.”

“Did she? Well, isn’t that cute. It doesn’t matter. I have him.” Bud looked over at the sheriff and deputy.

“Right, sirs?”

“Far as I can tell, that pig belongs to Lil’ Bud.” Blubs answered. Wendy’s glare hardened.

“Now, Stanley, unless you’re here to accept my invitation to a celebratory dinner, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“Would you give it back?” Stan asked the question so quietly Ford almost didn’t hear it. For a moment, he thought he must have imagined it because there was no way his brother could have asked that.

“Waddles?” Bud asked breathlessly. “Or the Shack?” He stepped closer to Stan and away from the microphone. “I’d give Waddles back in a heartbeat. But the Shack is mine.”

“No.” Ford said forcibly. He grabbed Stan’s wrist and tried to tug him back. Stan didn’t budge. Bud’s eyes locked on Ford’s hand and his gaze darkened. He turned hate filled eyes on Ford. Ford glared right back. There was a list of things Ford was scared of. It had grown since he came to Gravity Falls but he was not scared of Bud.

“I’ll need that in writing.” Stan said simply. Bud’s hungry eyes scanned Stan’s face. Stan crossed his free arm over his chest and grabbed hold of his upper arm in a partial self-hug.

Had the world gone mad? This couldn’t happen. “No.” He insisted. “Lee, you can’t.” The nickname slipped out accidently and he regretted it. He didn’t want to use it in front of Bud. It was theirs. Like Stan being the only one to call him Sixer. Stan’s gaze didn’t waver. He remained stiff and staring at Bud.

“Why Stanley Pines, I’ll write up anything you want. What do you think? Seven tonight?” Bud shuffled closer. The audience was just watching them without any idea what they were talking about.

What was wrong with this town?

“Alright. I’ll give you two hours. I want Waddles back with his sweater collection.”

“Make it three and I’ll add in her pig scrapbook.”

Stan stuck his hand out. “Deal.”

Bud grabbed the hand in his own, smaller, sweaty hand and gave a small shake. Stan had to wrench his hand free after the shake. He took a step back for space.

“Ford, you gotta notebook or something to write on?” Stan asked as he wiped his hand on the side of his shorts. Ford pulled his notebook and pen out. He passed it to Stan who wrote something down. He passed the paper to Bud with the pen. Bud made sure his hand covered Stan’s when he took it from him. Ford did not miss the way Stan shuddered. A knot of anger churned in his stomach. He hated this child so much.

He’d never hated anyone more. He didn’t think he could hate anyone more.

Bud passed him back the contract. Ford read over it before stuffing it in his pocket.

_ I Bud Gleeful, hereby swear to return Waddles the Pig to Mabel Pines on the evening of July 9th, 2012. The pig will be given after the completion of a three hour date with Stanley Pines. _

They had both signed the bottom of it. Ford wanted to burn the document and Bud.

“Now, I’ll see you tonight, Stanny Bear.” Bud smirked and stepped back to the mic. “In the meantime, get off my stage.”

Blubs and Durland moved towards them. Wendy reached for her axe and was stopped by her dad. The twins jumped off the stage.

“What did you do?” Wendy asked as soon as they were cleared of the crowd. Soos was trailing behind with a frustrated frown. Ford could relate. He also felt helpless.

“Got him to agree to give Waddles back.” Stan answered shortly. He was still rubbing his hand against the side of his shorts like he could clean it.

“How?” Wendy demanded. She seemed uneasy.

Stan glared. “That doesn’t matter.” He gave Ford an additional warning look to keep silent. He opened his mouth and clicked it shut again. He couldn’t figure out what he would even say.

A rustling noise interrupted the conversation. They turned to look at the bush in question to see a figure emerging. Robbie stood up out of the bush he’d been creeping in and turned on a boom box. The popular boy band Sev’ral Timez started playing. Robbie then raised the boom box over his head.

“Take me back, Wendy! My arms are too skinny to keep holding this boom box forever!”

Wendy turned to them and looked at Stan. “Don’t trust him.” She hissed. She then booked it to where they’d parked their bikes. She mounted it with one smooth motion and pedaled away.

Robbie followed her like the creeper he was. “Wendy,” he called out desperately, “Have you been getting my texts? Do I need to send you more texts? Wendy!”

Ford watched them go with a frown. It was just them and Soos now. They’d lost Susan and Fiddleford to the crowd.

“Don’t do it.” He pleaded. “Atleast let me come along.” His twin turned to him. The bags under his eyes looked deeper. The glasses did nothing to lessen them. He had a bandaid on his cheek and a scab on the opposite one. He’d earned both of those defending people. Stan was always defending people. Why wouldn’t he let anyone defend him?

Stan smiled broadly. It didn’t fool Ford. He wasn’t sure why Stan even tried it. “Don’t worry, Sixer. I’ll be fine.”

* * *

They went back to Candy’s for lunch. They entered the small house and instantly knew something was wrong.

Mabel was sitting next to Candy on the couch with a pile of tissues on the table in front of them. Candy had both of Mabel’s hands in hers and was whispering something to her earnestly. Mabel was shaking her head.

“Boys,” Candy greeted when she saw them. She released one of Mabel’s hand and pushed her thick glasses further up her nose. Her mascara had streaked, Mabel’s as well. Stan felt guilty and scared.

What had happened?

He gave a half-hearted wave. “Hi, Candy, Graunty Mabel.” Mabel sniffed loudly and blew her nose. She turned to face them with red, puffy eyes. She’d been crying a lot.

“I uh,” she stuttered. Candy squeezed her hand. Mabel stood up and reached into her pocket. She pulled out two small slips of paper and walked towards the twins. Stan was tempted to run like he had never run in his life. He felt like a cornered rat. He couldn’t let her give him whatever she was holding. It would change everything if she did. He just knew it.

“Kids,” her voice broke on the word. She swallowed and continued. Ford stepped closer and pressed his arm against Stan’s. The pressure was anchoring. Whatever happened, they’d face it together. Stan could face it if he had Ford. “Kids, we've got to talk. Look I've been thinking and... I can't take care of you anymore.” Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I-I don't have house or a job. The plan is, you're goin' home. Your bus leaves tomorrow, here are your tickets.” She pressed the papers into Ford’s hand and stepped back.

“Graunty Mabel,” Stan burst out, “you can’t!” His voice was hysterical. They couldn’t leave like this. He couldn’t go home. He was supposed to have all summer here. They were supposed to get the shack back and have fun.

“Look,” she swallowed and dashed her tears away angrily. “I lost. I can’t take care of you like this. She brushed her fingers on the side of his glasses. “Remember? I told you that if I couldn’t afford these, I should be responsible for you.” She dropped her hands and stuffed them into her pockets. “I’m sorry, kids, but Bud won.” She took a step back and turned away from them. “Summer’s over.”

She left the room with Candy following.

Ford was still looking at the tickets. Stan couldn’t breathe. He sank to the floor and grabbed his head in his hands. He’d failed. He’d lost the shack and he’d failed. It was all over. Bud had won. Bud had utterly betrayed them all. And he had to go out on a date with him. He wasn’t going back to Jersey. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Not yet. Not after these last weeks.

“Stan?” Ford hadn’t moved. Stan tilted his head to look at him and felt queasy. His brother closed his hands on the ticket and looked at him. There was a determined fire in his eyes. The same fire he’d seen when they’d found the Jersey Devil last summer. He trusted that look. He always trusted Ford but he felt safe with that determination.

Ford went towards him and offered him a hand. Stan took it and stood up.

“Come on,” Ford turned and went towards the kitchen. “We only have a few hours to get our plan together. You’re going to that dinner and I’m going to the Mystery Shack.” He shared an angry look with Stan. “We’re getting the deed back.”

* * *

Plane tickets would have been cheaper. That’s what did it for Ford. Their Graunty had spent more of what little money she had so Stan wouldn’t have to go into the air again. The trip out here had been hell because of that. Ford had been stuck watching his brother suffer through the long flight. He couldn’t even recall telling her that Stan hated heights or flying. She’d just paid attention. Filibrik was their father and he still didn’t remember that Stan was scared of heights.

It was a small thing in context of all she had done for them this summer. That was kind of it too. She’d done a lot without asking for anything in return. He couldn’t leave her now.

A switch had flipped in Stan as well. He was fidgety now. Stan was always fidgety, mostly because of the obscene amount of sugar he ate on a daily basis, but this was different. This was a caged fidgety. The kind of fidgety that desperate people got. He didn’t think it was the quickly approaching date. He was pretty sure it was the idea of going home. He felt it to. Gravity Falls was incredible. He’d only been here a month and a half and he didn’t want to leave it. He’d seen more wonders in his short time here than he’d ever seen at Glass Shard beach.

They biked to the steak house together. He felt like he was betraying Stan by leaving him there.

He biked past the mystery shack, past the main town and onto the trails. He had exactly three hours to do everything. It had been a few weeks since he had traveled this path and he’d never traveled it in the dark. He’d only gone back once. He’d brought the journal that time and made an entry in it.

The cave was where he remembered it. He shined his flashlight inside and saw it reflect in several sets of eyes.

He smiled and waved. “Multibear!” He called out. Several different pitched growling noises greeted him. The tall, multi headed bear walked out of the cave and looked down at him.

“What is it, Stanford Pines?”

The bear smiled down at him. Several of the heads on his body did the same. None of them seemed as intelligent as the main head but they didn’t seem particularly cruel.

He stared up at the multibear. Everything hinged on this. “I need your help. My Great Aunt’s house was stolen from her. I want to get the deed back from the boy who stole it. I just… I can’t get in by myself.”

The main head kept him under its steady gaze. One of the heads near his shoulder snapped at a bug and missed.

“What do you need?”

* * *

Stan wasn’t sure how he was going to manage to eat anything. He hadn’t had an appetite since they’d lost the Shack. Now he was nauseous as well. He’d considered coming in his tank top and shorts but he thought Bud would like that. Plus, he did not like the idea of Bud trying to touch him again. He felt weird enough about being contractually obligated to go on a ‘date.’ So despite the heat, he was wearing a pair of Ford’s jeans and the sweater Graunty Mabel had made him. He’d thought about wearing the captain hat Ford had gotten him but decided against it. He didn’t want anything to happen to it. He also hadn’t told Bud about the boat. He’d come close before Bud had gotten creepy.

He’d never told anyone about the boat.

He watched Ford ride off with a heavy feeling in his chest. There was a lot riding on this night. If everything went right, he’d get Waddles back and Ford would get the deed. They wouldn’t have to go home and Summer could continue. If not…

He turned around and headed into the restaurant rather than think about that. He’d almost forgone his glasses so he could spend the night in blurry oblivion. It seemed like a better idea to have full awareness. Bud was nothing if not conniving.

He walked through the doors and felt a bit of a gut punch. There were _so_ _many_ people in the restaurant. He’d thought it’d be empty. He’d hoped it would be.

The maître d noticed him standing in the doorway and looked down his nose at him.

“How may I help you?” He asked in a snooty voice with a slight French accent. Stan glared.

“I’m here to meet Bud Gleeful.” He all but growled the words. The maître d instantly straightened and looked terrified.

“Oh!” He exclaimed with a humble bow, “Monsieur! Right this way, please.” He motioned Stan forward and waited dutifully until Stan moved. It would have been satisfying to see him so subservient if Stan wasn’t so annoyed.

It felt like everyone was looking at him. He recognized a few faces but didn’t look too closely. He kept his eyes locked on the back of the maître d’s suit coat. They walked through what felt like the entire length of the restaurant until they reached a table by the window. It had a nice view of the lake that he could have enjoyed on a different date.

Bud was sitting on one side of the small booth and it was at that point that Stan realized the other booth had been taken out. He’d have to sit beside Bud. He almost laughed. It was utterly ridiculous.

“Stanley!” Bud called excitedly as soon as he was near. He raked his eyes over Stan like he had on the stage and smiled toothily. Stan raised an unamused eyebrow and stopped at the table.

“Gleeful.” He grumbled as the maître d motioned for him to sit. He exhaled tiredly and felt his body slump. This was happening. There was no way out. He slinked towards the booth and slid in sloppily. To be such an expensive looking place the booth was anything but comfortable. It didn’t even have a cushion on the back.

It didn’t make sense to him why their back was to the view. What was the point of having a lakeside table if you couldn’t see the lake? Something about that was niggling him. He just couldn’t quite place it.

Bud scooted closer to him as soon as he settled. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but just barely. The small, chubby boy wasn’t wearing his typical baby blue suit. He’d opted for a dark purple suit instead with a bow tie. He smelled like the cologne Stan’s pa wore and he was wearing way too much of it. He didn’t like the scent to begin with. Now he could taste it on the air and it made him feel worse.

“You look soft.” Bud flirted while the maître d passed out their menus. Stan pretended he hadn’t heard. He opened up the menu more forcibly than was required. It was the fanciest looking menu he’d ever seen. The page weren’t laminated or stained. It was some thick type of paper with a dark green fabric cover. He didn’t recognize half the words on it. 

Bud’s hand trailed along his arm. He turned his head slowly and peered down at the small boy who was staring mesmerized at his shoulder. Somehow he hadn’t anticipated this. He’d warn this sweater because Mabel had made it and it covered his body. He’d thought that’d be enough to ward off any touching.

“I swear,” Bud breathed with stars in his eyes, “you get stronger every time I see ya.”

Stan shrugged the hand off his arm. “Bud, this isn’t that kind of date.” He twisted a little in his seat so there was a bit more space between them. “I’m not going to let you grope me or nothin’.” He lifted the menu back up and pretended to pursue it. He felt like he was back at the factory when Bud had kept grabbing his hand.

“Don’t forget what’s at stake, Stanley Pines.” Bud hummed as he lifted his own menu. “I’d hate to see ham on this menu.”

Stan dropped the menu and the act. He glared at Bud. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Bud smiled sweetly. “Stanley, I’d do just about anything for you.” He nodded towards the menu. “I’d highly recommend their Manhattan cut.”

It wasn’t the most expensive item on the menu but it was pretty close. He was going to make sure this date cost Bud something. He certainly wasn’t paying for it. He’d lost most of his cash when they got kicked out of the Shack.

The maître d came back a moment later and bowed. “Are you ready for your orders?”

“Jean Luc,” Bud snapped fiercely.

Stan flinched a little at the sudden unexpected loudness. “What did I say about eye contact?” The maître d, Jean Luc, promptly dropped his gaze to the tablecloth.

“Of course, monsieur.”

“Yeah,” Stan interrupted before anyone could say anything else. “I’ll get the Manhattan cut with mac and cheese and a pit cola. Cherry if you got it.”

“We uh, do not have-”

“Whatever Stanley wants he can have.” Bud stated with a decisive smile. He passed their menus back. “And I’ll have the same thing.”

“Yeah, Jean Luc.” He nodded his head importantly. “Whatever I want.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. Jean Luc nodded his head several times.

“Yes, yes, whatever you want.” He retreated to the kitchen. Bud was ogling Stan.

“So, what have you been up to this summer, Stanley?”

He glanced at his watch and saw only ten minutes had passed. Okay. Time to talk. What was a safe topic? He finally settled on the Summerween Trickster. Bud had been scared of him since he was a toddler. That annoyed Stan because he definitely would have sent the monster after Bud if he’d known.

The food arrived at that point and Stan dug in. It was the best steak he’d ever eaten. Not that he’d eaten a lot of steaks. They brought the soda in a wine glass which felt pretentious but whatever. He recognized the Mac and Cheese as the kind they served at Greasey’s diner. He’d be surprised if it wasn’t made there.

Bud woofed his food down and then spent his time staring at Stan and telling a story about autographs.

During dessert it occurred to him why there were so many people in the Steak house. They’d come to see Bud, and Bud had planned on it. He wanted everyone to see that they were eating together. He was putting on a show.

Stan had never been the biggest fan of bread pudding but after tonight he was pretty sure he’d never eat it again. Not without remembering Bud’s loud laugh, overdone cologne, and sweaty hands.

When they  _ finally _ finished the meal and Bud paid for the check, they’d only used up an hour of the three hours.

* * *

Gideon Gleeful was watching the Shack. There was something huge and tarped covered standing about fifty feet away from the shack, but he couldn’t see what it was. It was taller than the shack was but that was all he could really tell.

He was riding on the Multibear’s shoulder. He could see more and it made it where he could jump off and run for the shack if things got dicey. 

Gideon was sitting on a chair in the middle of the yard, watching the tall thing with a curious tilt of his head. There was no one else around that Ford could see so he decided to make himself known.

“Gideon Gleeful!” He shouted as loudly as he could. The old conman shot to his feet and turned towards Ford and the multibear. He looked startled. Ford pressed his advantage. “Give us the deed to the shack, or else!”

Gideon tilted his head and the startled expression smoothed out to amusement.

He laughed. “Am I supposed to say, "Or else what?"”

“Yes,” Ford said around a smile, “you are.” He tapped the multi bear on the shoulder. “Now!” He jumped off the multibears shoulder as the giant creature charged forward. His numerous mouths all snarled in tandem and it was terrifying.

But Gideon didn’t look scared. He casually reached into his suit coat and pulled out a small, silver whistle. He brought it to his lips and blew on it. The multibear came to an abrupt stop and fell to his side. All the heads started to whine and thrash about. His hands flailed around, trying to cover all the ears it could reach.

“Huh,” Gideon chuckled, “will ya look at that? It works on whatever this is too.” He blew another silent note on the whistle and the multibear cried out in pain.

“Stop!” The bear begged, “Please!”

“Leave us!” Gideon ordered. He pointed towards the woods behind the house. “And don’t come back!”

The multibear’s main head turned to look at Ford with mournful lips. Gideon raised the whistle and the multibear took off into the woods.

Ford backed up a step. Gideon turned his gaze on Ford and smiled maliciously.

“Well, kid,” he hummed, “it seems you’re alone.” He marched towards Ford startlingly fast. He turned to run away but he was too late. The older man caught him by his coat and hefted him up into the air. He kicked out wildly but it didn’t seem to matter.

Gideon laughed and lifted him up higher. He peered at him and just kept laughing.

“I gotta hand it to you, boy, you’re cleverer than you look. Far cleverer than that brother of yours. It’s a shame my grandkid couldn’t have taken a fancy to you.” He shook his head. “What was the plan? Catch me unaware while your idiot brother distracts Bud? Mighta worked, if it had been the other way around.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Still. How did you come up with this plan? Hmm? How’d ya find that there creature?” He leaned forward until there were mere inches between them. His rancid breath washed over Ford’s face. “Did ya  _ read _ it somewhere?” He gave Ford a hard shake. He felt the journal slide out of his pocket and fall damningly to the ground. Gideon’s eyes followed the journal as it fell and a evil smile lifted his lips.

“Well, well.” He hummed. He tossed Ford a few feet away and bent to pick up the journal. “Ain’t that somethin’.” He lifted the journal up and stood up right. “I reckon it’s time you got off my land, Stanford Pines.”

Ford scrambled to his feet. He lunged for the journal but Gideon was much taller than him. The big man caught him by the collar and stopped him cold.

“Everything you’ve managed to do this summer has been because of this, hasn’t it?” He laughed. “You’re not clever at all. Your brother’s a bigger threat than you. At least he can throw a punch.” He shoved Ford back and tucked the journal into his suit coat. “Go home, boy. You’re done here.”

* * *

Bud kept trying to ‘accidentally' brush his fingers against Stan’s hand so Stan stuffed them in his pockets. They were leaving the crowded restaurant and he was trying very hard to look relaxed. To look like he didn’t care who saw what.

He cared a lot. He wanted to grab the contract out and wave it around. To prove that he was here to save a pig.

Stupid Waddles.

“We’re going on a boat ride,” Bud leaned close and murmured, “_mon_ _cheri_.” He didn’t know what the French meant but he knew it was a pet name. He put a bit more space between them. He was doing this for Mabel. He was doing this for Mabel. For that same silly smile she gave when he brought Waddles back after the dinosaur.

If he could ride on a pterodactyl he could do this.

Bud led him to the lake where there was a boat set up. Tate McGucket was fiddling with the gondola and loading it up with a few supplies. He noticed them approaching and gave a sad little wave. He passed them both a life jacket when they got to the boat.

They had an hour and a half left.

They climbed up on the boat and Tate shoved off from the shore.

Stan  _ loved _ boats. He loved being out on the water and didn’t care about the kind of boat. Sail boat, row boat, canoe, motor boat, paddle boat, or even a raft. He loved it all. He was comfortable and confident on boats. He hadn’t been scared during the entire Gobblewonker encounter. He’d enjoyed all of it. He’d got to punch a sea monster on the nose for crying out loud.

It felt like Bud was dumping on that favorite thing. Being forced into a boat in the dark with Bud was wrong. This was something for him and Ford. Something they shared.

Was there a way to fetch a sea monster? It’d make the ride exciting at least.

“How’s Fiddleford?” He asked Tate casually. He knew it was the wrong question almost instantly. Both Tate and Bud tensed up. Bud looked angry which Stan didn’t care about, and Tate looked worried.

“I haven’t seen a lot of him over the last few days. I had hoped he was hanging with you guys.”

“You’re supposed to be talking to me, Stanley.” Bud growled. He grabbed Stan’s hand and jerked it to his chest.

He tugged his hand free and felt his face getting hot. He was embarrassed and angry. Tate was trying to pretend like he wasn’t watching them. He clenched his jaw and dug his fingers into his leg until it hurt. The pain helped to distract him and he managed to exhale.

He could do this. It was for Mabel. He. Could. Do. This.

* * *

Ford was walking aimlessly down the dirt road of Gopher Road. He’d walked it a lot, mostly to get somewhere, occasionally to think. Stan was typically with him. He’d walked it a few times when they were arguing.

He’d failed. He couldn’t get the Mystery Shack back. He’d never considered the fact that someone else might know about the journal. Did Gideon have one? It would make sense. He’d had a lot of magical knowledge.

He couldn’t decide if that would be better or worse. He’d thought himself special. He’d though that the journal made him unique. It didn’t. Gideon was right. Everything special about him came out of the journal. Stan had his strength and charisma. Ford was just a freak with too many fingers and a cool book.

He’d wanted so badly to be a hero. To save the day. He’d come close several times, but he always seemed to fall just short of being heroic. He wanted to discover something that would change the world. He wanted to leave a legacy that would leave others in awe. He wanted to leave something like the journals for others to find and obsess over.

He was a failure.

He didn’t know how long he’d been walking. He lost track of time. He might have wandered all night if he didn’t hear someone calling his name. He blinked blearily and looked around. There weren’t any street lights in this part of the town. Stan had almost reached him before he saw him. His twin was wearing a back pack he hadn’t had earlier and had Waddles in his arms. He looked furious and relieved.

“Thank God,” he panted. Ford stopped walking so he could catch his breath. “I looked for you at the Shack and didn’t see ya.” He set Waddles on the ground and straightened up. The pig grunted happily and bumped Ford’s leg. He went to chew on his jean legs but Ford jerked his leg away.

He didn’t say anything. He just turned and continued walking towards town.

“Wait,” Stan caught his arm and tried to turn him. Ford jerked his arm free, “what happened?”

“Use your eyes, Stanley. The plan didn’t work.” His tone was venomous and he saw hurt flash across his brother’s face and he felt worse.

“What happened?” Stan asked again.

Ford turned towards him and glared. Stan had succeeded on his mission. He’d gotten the stupid pig back. He’d endured a three hour date with Bud and had gotten Waddles.

“I failed!” He shouted the words as loudly as he could. He wanted to hurl them at Stan. “Isn’t it obvious?! Gideon was waiting! He beat me and he got the Journal!”

Waddles squealed in fright and hid behind Stan’s leg. It was something that Ford had done numerous times. It made him feel weaker and helpless. He was always hiding behind Stan. He was always in Stan’s shadow.

There was a weird look on Stan’s face. Like he wasn’t certain what to think or feel.

“Did he hurt ya?”

Ford shook his head. Of course. Even when Ford was yelling at him, Stan would still try and play the hero.

“No.” He turned on his heel and went walking again.

“You’ll think of something.” Stan said confidently. His footsteps were loud in the silent night and that rankled Ford’s nerves all the more.

“No. I won’t.” He spun back to face his brother and waved his hand in the air. Stan flinched and that made him angrier. “How can you not get this? I’m  _ nothing _ without that journal! I got beaten by an old man!” Waddles backed away and whined. Stan didn’t seem to notice. He looked even more confused.

* * *

“What are ya saying, Sixer?” Stan finally asked.

“Why don’t you get it?!” Ford exploded. He shoved him hard in the chest. Stan slipped and fell down on the grass.

“What the hell!” He pushed himself up to his knees and tackled Ford to the ground. He had been itching for a fight since Bill. The date had been hell. He’d been forced to sit and ward off what advances he could. He’d gotten the pig back and wanted to punch Bud. He’d refrained himself because he didn’t want to lose Waddles.

Ford landed on his back with an ‘oof’. He used his tackle to hold Ford’s arms at his side and climbed on top of him. He never had trouble with this move in Jersey. Ford had attended almost every boxing lesson Stan had been to and hadn’t paid an ounce of attention.

Ford had apparently learned something at some point. He freed his left hand and socked Stan in the side. Hard. The blow caught Stan by surprise and he relaxed his grip on Ford. His brother got his other hand free and shoved Stan to his side. He came back with a punch and caught Ford on the shoulder. His brother grunted with pain but kept coming. Stan tried to grapple him again. He got hold of his shirt and tugged him to the side. He got a hold of Ford’s other shoulder and shoved him to the ground again. His twin kicked out at him. His shin lit up with pain.

The next thing he knew there was blood in his mouth and on his lip. Ford was crying out in pain and he was on top of him. He’d shoved his twin’s face in the dirt and had his arms bent behind his back. He blinked away the rage and released Ford. He scrambled backwards and landed hard on the dirt. His side hurt and he was pretty sure he’d busted a few cuts right back open.

Ford twisted around and pushed himself up. He had dirt all over his face and a nasty welt growing on his cheek.

He’d done that. To his brother. He’d hurt him.

He’d sworn he’d never do that. They fought, a lot, but Stan was careful not to hurt him. He was the stronger twin and he knew how to fight. He always held himself back when they tussled.

Ford was breathing heavy and looked like he still wanted to go a few more rounds. Stan didn’t move. He could feel blood on his lip and cheek. His other cheek felt tight like it was swelling. Finally, Ford grunted and stood up. He stalked towards the road. Stan stumbled to his feet and went after his brother.

“Ford!” He coughed and spat out dirt and blood. That always tasted awful. “Wait! What the hell is going on?”

Ford didn’t stop but he did slow down a little.

“Come on, tell me.” He caught up with his twin and wheezed a little. Sixer had hit him pretty hard. He could feel the bruises from the Trickster and the fall off the pteranodon’s nest throbbing. He’d nearly broke a rib on that one.

“Don’t you get it?” Ford spun and raised his hands in the air with exasperation. He nearly hit Stan in the nose. He recoiled his face but held his ground. Ford didn’t seem to notice he’d even done it. “Can’t you understand? We’ve lost! There is no plan. We failed. It’s over.”

“You’ll think of something.” Stan urged. He had confidence in his brother’s brain. That was one thing he could always believe in. Ford would think of something to get them out of any scrape.

His twin was tense. His hands were balled in fist and he was breathing loudly through his nose. He was slimmer than Stan but he was trying to make himself bigger. Intimidating. Stan didn’t get what was going on.

“It’s over, Stanley. We’re going back to Jersey.” He shoved Stan away and walked off. Stan stumbled back a step from the force of the push. He spat out a bit more blood and whipped his lip. His hand came back red. God. What would Mabel think? He couldn’t let her see them like this.

He walked back to where the fight had started and grabbed Waddles. The pig was grunting and hoofing the ground uneasily. He ‘whonked’ when Stan came close. Stan knelt beside him and scratched his head. The pig snuffled his hand and licked him. He grunted with alarm when he found the blood. Stan wiped it off on his jeans and stood up. He’d ripped the knee. Ford would be angry later when he saw that later. He’d been unhappy about loaning them to Stan.

Waddles butted his head against Stan’s leg. He picked the pig up and hugged him close. He was just one more thing to say goodbye to.

* * *

Ford was already curled up in his sleeping bag when Stan got home. He’d purposely wandered around for a while to give his brother some time.

Mabel was asleep on the couch. He put Waddles next to her. The pig grunted softly and curled up next to her. Mabel rolled over in her sleep and wrapped her arms around him. He watched her for a minute before going to the bathroom.

He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out the band aids. He looked at himself in the mirror for the first time and shuddered. He’d split his lip, his cheek was swelling, and he’d broke open the scab on his other cheek. Well. At least Bud wouldn’t think he was attractive now. Right?

He started with the knee. He’d gotten gravel in the cut and that was always a drag to clean up. He tended to his face next. He rinsed his mouth out with water and decided to skip brushing tonight. He was too tired and there didn’t seem to be a point. He shuffled out of the bathroom and grabbed his pjs. He returned to the bathroom and tugged them on. That was when he noticed that he’d ripped the side of his sweater.

He sank to the floor in front of the sink and clutched the sweater in his hands. He didn’t even notice there were tears falling down his cheeks until they made his cuts burn. He dashed them away angrily and threw the sweater at the wall. It made the softest ‘thud’ that did nothing to relieve his anger and heart break.

He dropped his head on his knees and wrapped his arms around them.

What would he tell Pa? There would be questions asked and he had no answers. He’d see the evidence of a fight and Stan would get punished. Ford too, probably. He might be able to take the blame for Ford’s injuries but it’d depend on Pa’s mood. With their early return, he doubted Pa’s mood would be agreeable.

There was a quiet knock on the bathroom door that made his head jerk up. He quickly dashed his tears away and swallowed thickly. He rubbed his snotty nose off on his sleeve and swallowed again.

“Come in.” He tried to change his position so it looked like he had been poking at his leg. He had five band aids on it. He’d need to swipe a pack from the store before they left tomorrow. It’d be a long bus ride to Jersey and he’d probably need to change them a few times.

Ford pushed the door open and shuffled into the bathroom. He was in his pjs as well and had damp hair from a shower. His cheek was a little puffy but not too bad. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and Stan wasn’t sure how he’d even made it to the bathroom without them. Stan had blurry vision, Ford was basically blind.

His brother didn’t say anything. He just came into the room and shut the door. He hobbled towards Stan and sank to the floor next to him. Stan sat stiffly. An endlessly long moment of silent passed and then Ford’s shoulder was touching his. His body relaxed and he leaned back. Ford made a choking noise and shook a little. Stan draped his arm around his brother’s shoulder and tugged him close.

“Sorry, Sixer.” He whispered.

“It’s my f-fault.” Ford finally stuttered out. He turned and hid his face in Stan’s shoulder. Ford was pressing uncomfortably against his bruised side but he didn’t let on.

“Nah. It’s Bud’s fault. Its Gideon’s fault. It’s Blub and Durland’s fault. It’s this stupid town and its stupid laws fault.” He tilted his head so his cheek was against the top of Ford’s head. That smarted but he was kinda past caring. Everything ached anyway.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that. Eventually Ford stopped shaking. Stan’s shoulder was soaked but it wasn’t getting any wetter. 

“What time does the bus leave tomorrow?” He was hesitant to ask the question but he needed to know. They only had a few hours left in this stupid, splendid, frustrating, fantastic town.

“Eight.” The words were muffled into his shoulder.

“That early?” They needed to get off this cold, hard floor. They’d be sore in the morning if they didn’t. They were already guaranteed to be sore because of the scuffle.

“Yeah.” Ford pulled back a slight bit. Stan lifted his head so his brother could move. “Your cheek’s bleeding.” Ford pointed out. He sucked in a loud breath and rubbed the palm of his hand into his eyes. “I’m sorry for hitting you.”

“‘S okay.” Ford grabbed some toilet paper and dabbed the blood off of Stan’s cheek. Stan rolled his neck and struggled to his feet. He offered a hand to Ford. He got his twin up and they stared at each other. Identical bruised faces. Sad and tired.

“Let’s go to sleep.”

* * *

They woke up early to Mabel’s squeal of ‘Waddles!’ She’d then smothered them with hugs and tears.

The ride to the bus stop was quiet. No one seemed to know what to say. Stan certainly didn’t.

“Bus 52, departing Gravity Falls, all aboard.”

Mabel crushed them both to her chest and kissed the top of their heads. “I’m so sorry.” She leaned back slightly so she could look them in the face. “I love you two so much.” She swallowed and there were tears in her eyes. “I’ll find a way to visit you.” They both gave her a fierce hug.

Soos and Wendy had come as well. He’d expected to see Fiddleford but he was still awol. He hadn’t told Susan. He couldn’t figure out how.

They climbed on the bus after saying their goodbyes and sank into the back seat. Mabel was clutching onto Candy and waving frantically.

They sat silently for five or so minutes. That was all Stanley could take.

“Want to play a game? Betcha I can hit the driver with a spit ball from back here.”

Ford shook his head. “Not right now.” He sighed and slouched in the seat. “We have a long ride ahead of us. We don’t want him hating us too early.” Stan looked around in the seat to see if there was anything else he could distract himself with.

“ROBOT!” Ford shrieked the word. Stan jumped and winced. That had been right in his ear. Ow.

“What?” He turned his head to see what Ford was staring at. His mouth dropped open as he looked. There was a robot taller than the Mystery Shack charging towards their bus. It looked like Bud. It was even styled with the stupid suit he always wore. It was some horrible death bot, and it was charging towards them.

“HALT!” The robot shouted in an electronic, amplified, version of Bud’s voice. “I COMMAND YOU TO HALT!”

The bus driver noticed what was going on at this point and screamed. He slammed on the gas like they weren’t going around a curve on a mountain. There were no seatbelts and both twins promptly slammed into the seats in front of them. The bus spun out of control and Stan was convinced this was how they were going to die. The driver jerked the wheel hard and the skidding bus bolted into the thick forest on the side of the road. He screamed all the louder and slammed on the break. Both twins flew out of their chairs and landed in the aisle. Stan was first on his feet. He jerked Ford up and they ran for the exit. The bus man had left the door ajar.

They booked it for the trees.

Ford found a trail and followed it down the side of the mountain. Stan was trembling from adrenaline and how far up the mountain they were. Ford made certain Stan was furthest from the edge but they didn’t have time to be calm. They could hear the Bud-bot coming.

The trail led to an old rail road track that stretched across the mountain. There was a tunnel to the right that was blocked off.

The Bud-bot jumped down the mountain to the tracks. It made the ground and everything around shake. Stan shrieked and dropped to his knees. He grabbed hold of the ground as Ford tried to pry the wood open.

The Bud-bot righted itself and turned towards the twins.

“Tell me! Where is Journal #1?!”

Ford gave up on the boards blocking the tunnel and turned to face Gideon.

“What? Journal #1?” He asked. Stan stood up stiffly. He forced the fear down and took a step closer to Ford. He would not look down.

“Don't play games with me, boy!” Bud shrieked. He took a giant step towards them and everything shook. Stan grabbed Ford’s wrist and got ready to bolt. The Bud-bot punched at the cliff overhead and rocks started to fall. One very nearly hit Ford in the head. Stan jerked him to the left and tried to get to the trail again. A giant robotic hand slammed into the trail in front of them. The force of it sent both twins crashing. Stan shrieked involuntarily.

“I don't know what you're talking about!” Ford shouted. He hauled Stan up and stood in front of him. “You took the only journal I ever had! What do you even want with these journals anyway?”

The giant hands came at them and grabbed them around the waist. They were hauled into the air and Stan thought he was going to throw up from the sudden and severe vertigo.

Ford was screaming something from the other hand but he couldn’t hear it. The Bot spun around and lifted them both so they were eye level. It laughed in a creepy electronic way.

“You think you’re some kind of hero, boy?” Bud asked. He turned his robotic head to look at Ford. “You’re nothing!” He threw his hand over his shoulder and tossed Ford away.

Stan screamed like he had never screamed before. He dove after Ford to no avail. He was caught fast and couldn’t move. His arms stretched towards his falling brother. Another harsh scream was torn from his throat as the Bud-bot moved towards the other cliff. He pounded at the metal hand holding him with utter abandon. He didn’t care that his hands were bleeding and he wasn’t doing any damage. Bud had taken everything away from him. He wouldn’t let him take Ford as well. Not alone.

* * *

Ford crashed into the trees at the top of the mountain. He managed to catch hold of one enough to slow his descent before he fell flat on his face. The sound of Stan’s screams were tearing through the forest. He’d never heard Stan scream like that.

He pushed himself up and spat out a mouthful of dirt, pine needles, and blood.

_ You’re not clever at all. _ He could hear Gideon’s mocking voice in his head.  _ You think you’re some kind of hero, boy? You’re nothing! _

It didn’t matter if they were right or wrong. It didn’t matter if it was the journal or Ford. What mattered was that Stan was being carried away by the Bud-bot.

For the first time in his life, Ford acted without thinking. With a bleeding head and cracked glasses, Stanford Pines ran to the edge of the cliff and sprang off it. He bellowed like the Manotaurs had taught him as he hurtled through the air. The sound drew the Bud-bots attention and he turned to see what was making it. Ford curled himself into a ball and crashed through the eyeball. He rolled into the interior and sprang upright. He’d crashed into some sort of control room.

Bud Gleeful was standing about ten feet away from him in the center of a glowing circle with a jumpsuit on. He was covered in little balls like a motion capture suit.

He got his feet under himself and dove for the chubby boy. He tackled him and wrapped his arms around him. He knocked him to the ground and got on top of him. Stan had done this stupid move to him a thousand times. It was satisfying to do it to someone else.

The entire bot fell to the ground as Bud fell, and he could hear Stan’s screams of fright from outside.

Okay. So the suit was definitely motion control. Bud was controlling the bot from here. He just had to be careful. They were a few thousand feet in the air and Bud was holding Stan up in the air.

“LET GO OF MY BROTHER!” He screamed the words at Bud’s face and hit him across the jaw. It was a poorly aimed punch and Stan would have lectured him about it.

Bud hit him across the cheek hard enough to make stars burst in his vision. He fell off the chubby boy.

“Never!” Bud screeched. “I won this time! He’s mine!”

Ford took a breath as Bud came barreling towards him.

_ You gotta use your hips, Sixer.  _ Stan’s voice rang in his head. He’d tried so many times to teach Ford how to fight.  _ Swing them with your fist. And stop aiming for my face, aim for the spot behind my face. Good. Now exhale on the punch. Just do it, nerd. Bend those knees. Can’t be too tense or you’ll use all your energy. _

He planted his feet and bent his knees. Bud reached him and Ford swung with all his might. He exhaled, turned his hips, and aimed for the spot behind Bud’s head. His fist caught Bud right under the eye. The short boy was caught completely off guard and went flying backwards.

And so did the robot. They both fell to the floor and started to slide to the back. The robot did the same, stumbling backwards. Ford frantically tried to find something to grab onto but there was nothing there. The robot stepped backwards and found nothing but air. It hovered in the air for a moment, and then it was plunging into the valley below.

* * *

The robot stumbled backwards and the hold around Stan’s waist completely loosened. He broke free of the robotic hand as it plummeted from the rail road track. He could hear himself screaming as the ground disappeared beneath himself. The roar of wind around him drove every sound away. His heart thundered in his chest and he swung his arms wildly as he plunged to the earth. The robot collided with the ground beneath him and exploded. The shockwave knocked him aside and slowed him down just long enough to suck in a breath. He screamed it right back out as the heat from the explosion reached him.

He slammed his eyes shut and then something caught him around the stomach. He was jerked hard enough to lose his breath and felt his body stop.

“I gottcha!” Ford’s breathless voice said. Stan’s eyes sprang open to find that Ford was holding him around the waist. His right arm was extended over his head, holding onto the Grappling Hook he’d gotten all those weeks ago.

“Ford?” He gasped. He blinked stupidly at his brother who was beaming. He slowly lowered them to the ground. Once the earth was firmly beneath Stan’s feet he crushed his brother to his chest in a tight hug.

“I thought you died!” He squeaked the word out and would have been embarrassed about the way his voice broke if he wasn’t so happy.

“There is no logical reason that we both shouldn’t have died by now.” Ford pointed out. He returned the hug though.

Stan finally released him and punched him in the arm. “I can’t believe you did that!” He took a step back and grinned at his brother. “You took out a giant –“ He paused and looked down. He’d stepped on something and nearly slipped. It was a red bound, worse for ware, journal.

“Oh,” Ford bent down and picked it up. The golden pine tree with the number three on the cover flashed in the sunlight. “The journal!”

WEE WOOO WEEE WOOO

The sound of a siren pierced the air and made both boys jump. The cop car came peeling around the side of the mountain along with a dozen or so cars. People piled out of the cars and started talking.

“Is that the thing that exploded?”

“What’s going on?”

“Did someone fall?”

“Is this where the screams were coming from?”

What is that? It’s over here!”

Both boys turned their attention over to the still smoldering remains of the Bud-bot. Bud was crawling out of it. He was covered in dirt and had a nasty welt on his face.

“Bud!” Deputy Durland cried out. He ran to the conman and sank next to him. “Oh, good heavens! What on earth happened here?”

Bud struggled upright and pointed a shaking finger towards Stan and Ford.

“It was the Pines twins!” He coughed and pointed more vividly. “They tried to attack me and blow up my statue with dynamite! Arrest ‘em!”

They looked at each other in disbelief. “What?” They asked in sync. “He’s lying!”

Blubs shook his head and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Sorry kids,” he sighed, “but we trust Bud. Nothing short of a miracle would ever change our-“

A glittery purple bug came peeling in. It parked haphazourdously and the door was flung open. Mabel practically fell out of the car before stumbling towards them. She took in the wreckage of the robot and the twins standing a few feet away from Blubs. She locked eyes on the handcuffs in his hands and set her jaw.

“Wait!” She called out. She stumbled over the rubble to reach them. “Wait! It’s a lie!”

“What are you talking about?” Blubs demanded. Candy climbed out of the car with an arm full of stuff and followed after Mabel. Mabel reached the sheriff and poked him in the chest.

“He’s a fake.” She pointed at Bud and sent him a nasty glare. Durland had extracted him from the pile of rubble and was dusting him off.

“Really? Like you?” Blubs said. He rolled his eyes. Mabel glared. She reached down to his shirt collar and pulled the Lil’ Bud pin off. She threw it to the ground and smashed it with her pink sneakers. Blub’s made a sound of protest until he saw what was inside the pin.

Stan’s mouth popped open and Ford gasped. It was a camera. A tiny little camera that had been hidden in the pin.

“It’s the same with all the memorabilia!” Mabel shouted for the entire town to hear. “He’s put hidden cameras in everything!”

Candy dropped her armful of broken Bud merchandise. There were cameras and microphones in all of it.

“Wait a minute.” Ford murmured. Stan watched him go up to the Bud-bot and kick one of the panels. It fell off to reveal a control room of sorts. There were cracked tvs that were showing a live feed of the clearing they were in. All the pins in the crowd were sending back the video. There was an audible gasp from the crowd.

Stan blinked at the monitors in shock. It made  _ so _ much sense. All the things Bud knew that he shouldn’t have. He’d been spying.

“Bud,” Durland whimpered. He took a step back from the conman and looked heart broken. “We gave you our trust...”

Bud, sensing the turning of the crowd backed up. “I... It's not what it looks like... What are you gonna do with me?”

“Lil' Bud, you are under arrest for conspiracy, fraud, and breaking our hearts.” Blubs dashed away his tears and motioned to his deputy. “Durland, the tiny handcuffs.”

“Wha- no!” Bud looked around wildly but there was no one to come to his aid.

Mabel put her hand out and stopped Durland. “Just one more thing.” She grabbed hold of Bud by his lapels and hefted him up in the air. She shook him fiercely until things started to fall out of his pockets. She dropped him next to Durland and bent down. She stood up with a long piece of paper.

Bud screeched. “No! NO! Y’all can’t do this to me! Y’all need me!”

Stan ran for his Great Aunt with his brother in tow. They both slammed into her and wrapped her up in a tight hug.

* * *

Candy, Wendy, Manly Dan, Soos, Susan, and Tate all helped them get rid of the Gleeful’s junk. They dragged it all to the road and left it there. They then ordered enough food for fifty people and had a full on party with their friends.

“So.” Stan finally asked. He was so full it hurt a little bit. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been happier. “How did you figure it out, Graunty Mabel?”

Ford put down his soda and adjusted his glasses. Stan had lost his in the robot fight and was wearing his spares now. Ford was still wearing the cracked pair. Stan suspected that he thought they looked cool though he knew Ford would never say that out loud.

“Yeah, Graunty Mabel, how’d you know?”

Mabel laughed and set her milkshake down. She had ice cream on her upper lip and stickers all over her cheeks. Everyone had a lot of stickers on them. She’d gotten her stash back and went a little crazy.

“That was Candy’s doing. She got a lot of merchandise together so we could break it. She thought it’d be a good pick me up after saying good bye.” She smiled fondly at her best friend. Candy snorted and shook her head.

“We are crazy.” She told Stan. “I would have cut Gideon if it wouldn’t have landed me in jail. That was as close as I could get.” She shrugged and flashed Mabel a secretive grin. “He’s just lucky Grenda is still in Europe.”

“I get it.” Ford said. “You broke the dolls and saw what was inside.”

Mabel nodded. She ruffled his hair and tapped his nose. “We need to get you new glasses.”

Ford shrugged. “These are fine.” He swallowed and pushed a bit of food around his plate awkwardly. “I. Uh. Have something to show you, Graunty Mabel.”

Stan swallowed carefully and sat upright. They’d talked about this when they were putting their stuff back in their room. He hadn’t been convinced his twin would do it.

“What is it, Gumdrop?”

Ford set the journal on the table. He glanced at Mabel and dropped his gaze back to the table.

“This, uh, is a journal I found in the woods a while back. It’s…” He seemed to struggle with the right words. “It talks about all the abnormal things that go on in Gravity Falls.” He looked up at Mabel who’s eyes were fixed on the journal. “I’m fairly certain this is why Bud wanted the shack. I think he’d have destroyed the entire town to find it. I don’t know what that means or who even wrote it… But, after everything we’ve been through, I think you should know about it.”

“Thank you,” Mabel said softly. She reached for the journal. Ford tensed but let her take it. “Do you mind if I borrow it for a few days, Gumdrop?”

Ford’s hand spasmed on the table. For a second Stan was certain he would say no. He’d be disappointed too. Mabel deserved the chance to look at it.

“You can, so long as I can have it back.” Mabel nodded to him and took the box. Candy was giving her a weird look that Mabel didn’t seem to notice.

Something was going on but Stan wasn’t certain what it was.

* * *

It was well past midnight. It had taken Mabel hours to calm the twins down enough to finally crash. She’d tucked them in and waited for another half hour to make sure they didn’t get up. She’d almost made that mistake before. Stan had been ‘asleep’ before he snuck down stairs for a bowl of ice cream. Thankfully she was able to trick him into thinking she was doing the same thing.

She pressed the code into the vending machine and tugged it open. Her hands were shaking and she felt like she might throw up. She’d normally blame it on too much Mabel juice but she knew it was just nerves. She’d been waiting so long for this moment. It didn’t seem real. It felt fragile and fleeting. It felt like if she looked closely it might break under her hand. All her decades of work would fail and her hopes would be dashed.

No. This would work. It had to work.

She climbed down the dusty stairs and made a note to clean this area up next week. She got in the elevator and waited for it to reach her floor. The door slid open and she walked out into the lab. The computer was still powered up from her last session a week ago. Journal # 1 was laying on the desk right where she’d left it.

She placed Journal #2 and Journal # 3 on the desk with trembling hands. She sucked in a shaky breath and released it.

“Finally,” She murmured thickly. She blinked tears out of her eyes and reached for their covers. “Finally, I have them all.” She opened each book up to the middle and arranged the complex sketches so that they formed the hidden image. She studied it for a moment and then turned to the computer. She knew the ciphers in the journal inside and out. She didn’t even have to think to translate them. She typed in the revealed code with a few glances at the image to make sure she entered the numbers right. She pressed the execute button and looked up. The machine on the other side of the basement lit up.

She bit her lip and gripped the desk. This is where everything had always gone wrong. The machine whirred to full life and Mabel gasped.

“It’s working!” She sobbed the words and ran to the large room. She skid to a stop in front of the portal and threw her weight against the switch. The portal turned on completely, emitting a bright light and sending burst of electricity through the room. Her skin hummed with the static in the air.

Thirty years of work and she had finally gotten it. She could finally bring him home.

“Here we go, bro-bro.” She whispered. “I told you I’d get there.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was _so_ many words. It felt like I was writing this forever. So... thoughts? opinions? Please stop by for a chat. We're finally about to get to the section I'm really excited about. :)


	13. Scary‘oke: Is that a boombox sweater?!

Stan was on the edge of being worried when Mabel rushed into the kitchen. Her hair was disheveled and she was still in her night robes. Stan had seen Ford wake up after having fallen asleep on a book enough times to recognize the style. Mabel had been reading something and fallen asleep on it. There was even some ink on her cheek. She’d looked like that for the last two days they’d been working on getting the Mystery Shack back in order.

He wasn’t sure why she wasn’t sleeping in her bed or what she was working on.

“‘S okay.” She mumbled around a yawn. “I’m here. What time-” She cut herself off with another yawn.

Ford passed her a cup of coffee. “It’s ten till 8, Graunty Mabel. That’s when you wanted to open the Mystery Shack, right?”

“Yeah,” Stan added, “There’s already a line outside.” He motioned towards the window. You could see all the cars already parked on the lawn. Mabel blinked sleepily and yawned again.

“This calls for Mabel juice.” She set the coffee down and opened the fridge. There was a pitcher on the top shelf that was full of a pink, sparkly drink. Neither of the twins had ever asked about it. She poured herself a glass and downed it in three gulps. She gave her head a shake and shivered.

She jumped twice and winked at the twins. 

“I’ll be right back. You two ate already, right?” They both nodded and she grinned. “Great! Go ahead and get the shop running. I’ll be down in two shakes of a pig tail.” She jogged out of the room and to the hallway. 

“What do you think that stuff is?” Stan asked with a grin. Ford shrugged and shook the pitcher.

“I don’t know. It smells like lemonade and coffee. She’s put glitter in it.” He looked in the pitcher and frowned. “I think there are sprinkles in the ice cubes.”

Stan laughed and dropped his dish in the sink. They made their way to the front of the shop to find Wendy lounging at the cash register. She had a stack of magazines at the ready and was opening a bag of chipackerz.

“Sup?” She leaned back in her chair and propped her boots up on the counter. There was a painful swell of… excitement? In Stan’s chest. It was a familiar sight and the fact that he got to see it again… They still had a month and a half of summer left. He didn’t have to go home yet. He didn’t even have to think about it.

“Wendy?” Fiddleford’s voice rang from the exhibit hall. “Did I leave the hammer on the counter?”

“Nope.” Wendy called back. Fiddleford came in the room with a confused frown. He saw the twins and promptly smiled.

“Hey guys!”

“The hammers on the display case.” Ford said quietly. He pointed towards the tool in question and blushed.

“Gosh, you’re a life saver, Ford.” He grabbed the hammer up and hung it on his belt.

Stan hadn’t seen Fiddleford since the ‘press conference’ Bud had. And even that had only been for a few minutes. Fiddleford had kind of disappeared when the Shack was stolen.

Ford had been staring at Fiddleford for too long. Stan decided to save his brightly blushing brother.

“Fidds, where ya been? We missed you.”

Fiddleford directed his attention to Stan. His smile faded and his brow furrowed in confusion. “I, uh,” his voice trailed off. He tilted his head down and looked to the side as though he was trying to remember something. “Don’t know.”

Stan caught Wendy’s eye and raised his eyebrow. She nodded in reply so, yeah, that was weird. It wasn’t just Stan.

“Okay, everyone in place?” Mabel rushed into the room in a colorful whirlwind of yarn. She was wearing a red, orange, and yellow sweater with the words ‘MYSTERY SHACK’ in bold across the front. She had on her pink shiner’s hat with its shooting star and a multicolored beaded chain on her glasses. She was wearing a patchwork skirt and purple sneakers.

He grinned and took his place by her side. Ford joined him on Mabel’s other side. Wendy went to the front door and waited for Mabel’s signal. She placed a hand on each of the twin’s shoulder and nodded her head.

Wendy pulled it open and stepped out of the way as the crowd rushed in. Stan recognized a lot of the town in the crown. The Cordory’s, Susan, Soos, his Abuelito, Gorney, Candy, Toby, Tyler, even Shandra Jimenez was there with a camera crew.

“Welcome, one and all, the grand re-opening of the Mystery Shack!” Mabel declared with a dramatic bow. The town clapped and cheered as they crowded in.

“We’re here to celebrate the defeat of that jerk, Lil’ Bud.” The crowd booed as Mabel held up a Lil’ Bud doll.

“Please, please,” Stan held up his hands and the crowd quieted. Mabel raise an amused eyebrow and he grinned. “Boo harder!” The town responded enthusiastically and he got a laugh from his great aunt and brother.

“Smile for a camera!” Toby Determined held up a cinder block painted to look like a camera.

“That’s a cinder block.” Stan pointed out. Mabel snorted and tried to cover the sound with a cough.

Shandra shuffled her way to the front. “Smile for a  _ real _ camera.”

Mabel knelt to be the same height as the twins and wrapped her arms around them. She motioned for Wendy and Fiddleford to join her as well. “Everyone say something stupid!” They all shouted ‘something stupid!’ and made a silly face. She gave her nephews a quick, squeeze/hug after the camera flashed and stood up.

“Don’t forget to come to the after-party tonight at eight!” She pulled a bright, sparkly poster from behind her back and held it up high so everyone could see it. “We’re doing a karaoke bonanza, people!” Wendy snuck away from their group to get to the back of the crowd. “Light! Music! Enchantment!” Mabel cupped her hands together and blew confetti from them. He wasn’t sure where she had gotten it. “And,” she practically squealed the words as she caught Stan and Ford and squeezed them to her side, “an amazing karaoke performance by our family band, Love Patrol Alpha!”

Stan instantly protested as much as he could around her strangling hug. “I never agreed to that.”

“Too late!” Mabel cheered. She released her hold on the twins and Stan coughed. “I wrote your names on the list! It’s happening!”

He was about to protest again when Wendy blew the air horn. The crowd jumped and instantly focused their attention on her.

“Buy a ticket, people! You know you don't have anything going on in your lives!” She motioned them towards the cash register where they had the tickets set up. Fiddleford was already standing there ready to take their money. “I'm talking to you, Pizza Guy! Don't lame out on me!”

The trio were alone and took a moment to absorb the town’s excitement. Stan was thrumming with energy and wanted to jump. Everything bad had been undone. The only reminders of their hellish week were a few cuts and bruises that would heal.

Mabel was examining their faces intently and looked like she was trying to absorb every detail of the moment.

“Look at you two,” She murmured fondly. She tussled their hair and poked their cheeks. “Heroes and everything.”

“Do heroes have to sing?” Stan asked. Mabel cackled.

“Yes! Now go get ready for a tour.” She pushed him towards the exhibit entrance where there were already people lining up.

* * *

Mabel watched Stan go to the people lining up before turning on Ford. He had a feeling there was something she wanted to say and he hoped it was about his journal. It had been two and a half days since she’d borrowed it and he was getting a little antsy.

“Relax, Gumdrop.” She pulled the journal out of her pocket and passed it to him. “I know how important books are to you.” He took the journal in his hands and felt the familiar weight of it. The cover was still stained, the pagers were still water damaged, and the binding was still peeling. It was still perfect. His book marks were missing but he was pretty sure that had been Bud’s doing.

“Thanks for letting me borrow it. Quite an interesting read…” She hesitated and looked like she wanted to say something else. She smiled instead and stuck a sticker to his chin. It was a sticker of a tiny dog and said ‘pug hug.’ He snorted at the joke and got a surprise hug from Mabel. She gave good hugs. She squeezed tight but not enough to hurt. She was warm and encompassing. She didn’t smell bad

“Okay. Go and make money off these people.” She stood up and looked around with a conniving frown. “Bleed ‘em dry.”

“Aye-aye, ma’am.” He said with a mock salute. He tucked the journal in his coat.

“If they’re willing to support Bud they can’t be that clever, right?” He nodded in answer. She pat his shoulder and shuffled towards Stan. She raised her arms in the air and shouted some joke that made the crowd laugh. The tour started and Ford went to the gift shop. He helped a few confused customers and chatted with Susan and Soos.

A few hours passed without issue. They sold more merchandise than they had any day since Ford had been there. The town seemed to feel guilty for the way they’d been treated.

Which, in Ford’s opinion, they should have. He still couldn’t believe that these people who were buying his aunt’s merchandise, had sat idly by while they were robbed of their home. If it hadn’t been for Candy, they’d have been  _ homeless. _ Mabel’s life would have been utterly ruined and only a few people even seemed to care.

Yet here they were, buying her items and laughing at her jokes. He wasn’t sure what to think, but he wasn’t happy about any of it.

He was also feeling a little antsy. They were halfway through the summer and he still had so much to do. Everyday seemed to provide more questions that he had no answers for. Who was the author of the journal? How many journals were there? What had happened to the first journal? Why did so many weird things find their way to this town? It wasn’t just weird creatures either. The town seemed to attract anything abnormal to itself. Even Ford. Everyone in the town seemed at least mildly abnormal.

What drew them here?

There were other questions too. Like how had Bud gotten the robot? It was well beyond his skill to build. What was Bill? He had mentioned the mindscape, was that what they were in with Mabel? What had happened to the demon creature? Were there others like it?

He probably would have stood in the corner in contemplation all day if it hadn’t been for Fiddleford.

“Mabel?” The inventor called out. He was on a ladder and tinkering with the light over the cash register but wasn’t focusing on it now. His eyes were on the window that showed the parking lot.

“Hmm?” She called from where she had just finished a tour. Stan was following her with a big smile. He had on a shiner hat like her, but his was red and missing the shooting star. She’d put a matching sweater on him that he’d rolled the sleeves all the way up on.

“I’m supposed to warn ya if I see a government type vehicle, right?”

“Government?” Mabel and Stan asked at the same time. She went to the window and peered out it. She instantly stiffened when she saw the vehicle.

“Fudgenuts.” She muttered. She turned from the window and pushed Stan towards Ford. “Stay over there. If they try to go anywhere but here, create a distraction. The crazier the better.” Stan nodded his head.

“Will do, Graunty.”

“What?” Ford asked. Everyone ignored him. Fiddleford was climbing down from the ladder he’d been on. Wendy was still reading her magazine and acting like nothing had changed. Fiddleford put the ladder in the back and shut the door. Mabel motioned for him to lock it as she went to the door.

She tugged it open and swept her arm around in a grand gesture. “Welcome to the Mystery Shack, gents!” She sounded cheerful and looked utterly relaxed.

The men were tall and dressed in black suits. They had dark sunglasses on and ear coms. One of the men was balding with a large mustache and a no-nonsense frown. The other man was blond and had a little less intense of a frown. Both men pulled official looking badges out of their breast pockets and showed them to Mabel. She barely glanced at them.

“Ooh,” she laughed a little crazily. It wasn’t particularly convincing to Ford who had heard his Graunty laugh enough to know when it was fake. She was freaking out for some reason. “So official!” She was talking too loudly and seemed to know it.

“My name is Agent Powers,” The balding one said in a neutral tone. He indicated the man beside him, “this is Agent Trigger.” They put their badges back in their pocket. “We’re here to investigate reports of mysterious activity in this town.”

Trigger pointed at Mabel. “Activity!” He said it like he was accusing Mabel. As though she were hiding some dangerous activity. As if she wasn’t the one person in this town who seemed to actually be freaked out by its weirdness. It seemed crazy to Ford.

However, he also couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Government officials had noticed how bizarre this town was and had sent actual agents to investigate. This was his chance to unlock some of the mysteries. They were bound to have more resources than he did. They might even be able to figure out who the author of the journal was.

“Mysterious activity?” Mabel was asking in a tone laced with nervous laughter. “Well, we are the Mystery Shack.” She nudged Agent Trigger with her elbow and laughed. It fell very flat. “I’m joking.” She clarified. Stan winced beside Ford. He casually grabbed one of Mabel’s glitter bombs from under the counter nonchalantly.

Ford ignored him.

“Well I assure you I'm not.” He glared at Mabel disapprovingly. “I was born with a rare disorder that made me physically incapable of experiencing humor.”

If anyone was, it would be this guy. Ford had never seen someone look grimmer.

Mabel gave a sad, nervous laugh. Stan’s hand was tightening on the glitter bomb. Ford didn’t think it’d be long before his brother used it.

Agent Powers frowned at Mabel. “I don't understand that sound you keep making with your mouth. Now if you'll excuse us we are conducting an investigation.” The men pushed past Mabel and Stan stepped forward. Ford darted past him with sudden inspiration that might provide him with some answers and save his impulsive twin from winding up in jail.

“Wait!” He called. The agents turned towards him. “Wait, did you guys say you're investigating the mysteries of this town?”

Powers glared down at him like he had just asked about treason. “That information is classified.” He looked around the nearly empty shop and knelt down. “But yes. Look. Between you and me I believe there is a conspiracy of paranormal origin all connected to this town.” Ford inhaled sharply and clutched the journal in his pocket. “We're just one small lead away from blowing the lid of this entire mystery.”

“Seriously? I’ve been conducting an investigation of my own on the… oddities of this town.” He pat the journal where it was in his pocket. “I found a journal in the woods which has several answers. I’m certain if we work together, we could crack the case!”

The agents shared a neutral look. He turned back towards Ford. “If you have evidence of these claims,” he passed Ford a business card with their organization and a phone number, “we should talk.”

“No.” Mabel walked over with her hands on her hips and blocked Ford from view. “You will talk to me and not my grand-nephews. Besides, they’re here for their summer vacation. They’ve been playing a lot of games. You know. Imagination.” She laughed too loudly. “You know, he reads a lot. Fantasy.” Her voice cracked but the agents didn’t notice. They regarded her with a frown.

“Indeed?” He gave Mabel a doubtful look. Ford stepped around his Graunty indignantly. “You have the –“ He stopped mid sentence as the alarm on their car went off. Both agents ran outside with Ford and Mabel following.

Glitter covered the entire windshield of the car. The agents looked confused.

“What in the world?” Powers asked to no one in particular. He seemed to give himself a little shake and turned to Mabel. “We have other spots to investigate. We'll be on our way.”

Mabel ushered Ford inside while the two agents drove off. She looked unhappy. Ford was furious.

“Graunty, that was my big chance to uncover the mysteries of this town!”

“Stanley?” She called out, ignoring him. Stan popped up from behind the counter.

“Did it work?”

She nodded her head. “Beautifully, Gumball.” She stuck a sticker to his cheek with a dinosaur that read: Ext –ROAR –dinary. Stan beamed with pride.

“Graunty!” He stomped his foot to get her attention. She turned towards him and raised her eyebrow.

“What, Gumdrop?”

“That was my chance to figure out what is going on with this town! You just let them go!” He knew he was being too loud but he was angry. No one seemed to care about the anomalies here. They just overlooked them or ignored them. Stan and Mabel were no better than the rest of the town. They had seen so many impossible things in their month here. Gnomes, sea monsters, dinosaurs, magic stones, even time travel. Their month had been more unbelievable than a science fiction novel and no one cared at all.

“Kiddo,” She leaned down and looked him in the eyes. “The last thing we need in this town is the government poking around. Believe me. It will lead to nothing but problems.” She studied him with a frightened look. She blinked and seemed to decide something. Faster than he thought she’d be able to move she snatched the card out of his hand.

“Go read your journal, Gumdrop.” She straightened. “I’m confiscating this card. Don’t contact those men.” She went to the employee’s only room. Stan watched her go with a frown. Ford couldn’t move. She had just dismissed him and ordered him not to do something. It was unfair and belittling and so frustrating.

“Hey,” Stan came up beside him and punched him lightly in the arm. “Stop pouting. She’s right. We don’t want cops around. ‘Specially not at a party.”

Ford pulled the journal out and looked at it. “But what if we never figure out anything? Like who the author was?”

Stan took the journal out of his hands and flipped through it. “Bro, we’ve already fought gnomes, dinosaurs, time travelers, sea monsters, bears, and Bud. What else do you want?” He flipped the journal and showed the ‘undead’ page. “Zombies?” He passed Ford back the journal. “It’s just one night.” He looked over his shoulder at where Mabel had disappeared. “Let her have this.”

Ford huffed and tucked the journal back in his jacket. He was still angry.

* * *

Fiddleford was hanging the black lights over the makeshift stage. Wendy was putting the final touches on the sound stage. Ford was at the ticket counter with Stan. Mabel had strung up dozens of different kinds of Christmas lights. She’d put streamers everywhere, banners, Mystery Shack memorabilia, balloons, and glitter. She’d made a large dance floor with tiles that reflected the light from the disco balls she’d had Fiddleford hang in the trees. There were buffet tables loaded with horderves and drinks. 

Stan was chewing on a handful of toffee peanuts. Ford was attempting to organize the ticket table. They were using wrist tickets. Mabel had ordered a bunch in different colors and already premade a few for special guest. Namely her employees and friends. Stan’s was neon green with a doodle of a punched out pteranodon. Ford’s was yellow with a busted Bud-bot doodle.

He had just sorted the wristbands into two piles – personalized and plain – when there was a blast behind him. Both twins jumped as they were promptly covered in a cloud of brightly colored confetti. Mabel cackled with glee and reloaded the confetti cannon.

“It works!”

Stan sprang up from his chair. “No fair!” He threw a handful of toffee nuts at her. Mabel ducked out of the way laughing. A few got caught in her hair. Stan chased after her and the two ran off laughing. Ford shook his head and returned to the station.

“Any music preference?” Fiddleford asked.

Ford flushed. He couldn’t think of a quick reply. Fiddleford’s blond hair was tussled from all the times he’d run his fingers through it to get it out of his eyes. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his brow from the physical exertion of hefting the lights around and it was entirely distracting. His blue eyes were bright and reflected all the Christmas lights strung around them. He’d rolled the sleeves up on his plaid shirt and, while the inventor could never be described as buff, his thin build showed some muscles on his arms.

It was enough to cause Ford’s mind to utterly blank. He stared stupidly at the inventor with no idea what the question had been.

“I can play anything from her karaoke list, but it’s really only got hits from the eighties.” Fiddleford added.

“Babba?” It was the first band that popped into his empty mind and it made him blush furiously. He couldn’t believe he’d just said that.

“Sure thing.” Fiddleford pressed a couple of buttons on the karaoke machine and the music to Disco Girl poured out of the speakers.

Ford would die before he admitted it, but he loved this song.

Wendy finished setting the microphone up and pointed it towards Fiddleford. “Come on, Fiddsy,” she cheered, “I know you know this one.”

He laughed, “Disco girl!” He sang dramatically.

“Coming through!” Wendy added. They joined together for the next line. “That girl is you!”

“Oo ooo oo!” Mabel sang loudly from off stage. The teenagers laughed and jumped off the stage. They went towards the refreshment table and grabbed a few of the chips and cookies before the rest of the crowd arrived.

“Alright,” Mabel exclaimed. She came around the back of the stage with Stan in tow. They were both covered in confetti and silly string. “The people will be here at any minute. Stan and Ford,” She gave Stan a little push towards his brother, “You’re in charge of the tickets for the first half hour. I’ll relieve you at that point. Fiddsy,” She turned to the teenager and threw her arm around his shoulder in a side hug, “you’re in charge of the Karaoke machine. Don’t let Durland break it like last time.”

Fiddleford chuckled. “That’s a mighty tall order.”

“I have faith in you.” Mabel replied solemnly. She focused on Wendy who was sipping on her Peach Pit soda. “Wendy, you’re in charge of crowd control. You have the power to kick annoying people out. If you see a Gleeful, you know what to do.”

Wendy smiled a little maliciously. She clearly had plans in the event that Gideon showed up.

They took their places as the first car pulled up. Stan plopped in his seat and beamed at Ford.

“How did you get covered in silly string?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Mabel carries surprise cans.” Stan replied sagely. He winked. “I snuck a few off her when she wasn’t looking though.” He showed him the top of two cans he’d hidden in his pocket. “I’ll get her later.”

He smiled and tried to hide it. It was nice to see someone who Stan could be himself around. There were so few people who really got and enjoyed his ‘personality’ as their ma put it. Ford and Ma were really it. He knew Mabel loved him as well, but she didn’t quite get him as well as she got Stan.

“Dudes!” Soos came up to them with a big smile. He gave Stan a fist bump. “This is awesome!”

“Hey Soos.” Stan greeted cheerfully. He grabbed his arm and put a wrist ticket on him. “Here’s your pass for the night. Courtesy of the Pines.” 

“Huh?” Soos brought his hand to his face and looked at the purple wristband. Mabel had drawn a picture of Soos dressed up as the Mystery Shack question mark on it. His eyes got big with surprise. “Isn’t it ten dollars though?”

“For these yokels.” He waved his hand dismissively at the people starting to line up. “However you don’t have to pay.” He grinned cheerfully. Ford smiled as well. Soos looked utterly shocked. He realized Mabel had written his name on it and made the drawing and his expression turned bashful.

Ford waved as he walked away. “Have fun!” They checked in Susan next, who also had a prepaid wristband. Stan took care of her. Ford couldn’t help but notice that he spent more time holding her wrist and fastening the stick on bracelet. She was blushing brightly. She’d look at his face, grin, and drop her eyes. She studied the wrist ticket and squealed when she saw the little koala bear Stan had doodled next to her name.

“Hey,” Stan said with a smirk, “What’s say you and I spend some  _ koala _ -ty time together?” He grinned expectantly and Susan delivered with a loud, delighted laugh. Ford turned his attention back to the tickets and tried not to roll his eyes. His brother was unbelievable.

They passed out the remaining personalized tickets and spent the rest of the half hour collecting the money for the tickets. It had become automatic. He took the ten dollar bill, or equivalent of ten dollars, and passed out a wrist ticket. Stan was losing his mind to the monotony but Ford enjoyed it. Monotonous tasks allowed for thinking. 

Unfortunately, his thoughts weren’t particularly cheerful.

There was still so much to learn. So much to find out. What if he never figured out the mysteries of this town? What if summer ended before he had the answers? The Agents had probably been his best chance and now they were gone. All because Graunty Mabel was scared. She was scared of  _ so _ many things too. Who knows what he could have found by now if they were just allowed to go in the forest. Or if they could go out without letting her know an itinerary. Or if she would just tell them what had scared her to begin with. She hadn’t always been the timid, frightened woman she was. He knew that now. He’d seen the memories. He was fairly certain there was even one where she had been ghost hunting. He’d love to ask her about that if he could figure out some way to without mentioning that he’d been in her mind.

It was so irritating. He felt as though he knew more about is Graunty than ever while also knowing less. She had an interesting history and he was dying to know more about it but he couldn’t figure out how to ask. She never talked about herself either. She talked all the time and never told anyone anything. 

“Hey!” Ford was suddenly being shaken. He came out of his thoughts to see that Stan had latched on to his arm and was practically bouncing. “Hey!” he said again.

“What?”

Stan pointed towards the timer Mabel had set out for them. It was some strange thing she had knit. You had to hit it from the bottom to get it to start counting down. The dial was at zero. Ford blinked at it uncomprehendingly.

“We’re free, nerd!” Stan exclaimed. He released Ford’s arm and fist pumped the air. Sure enough, Graunty Mabel was coming towards them. Both twins sprang up and fled the minute she reached them.

“Thanks!” Ford called over his shoulder. Stan made a mad dash for the refreshments table. Ford did what he always did at parties and followed Stan. His twin grabbed two bags of burrito bites, a bag of corncornos, and toffee peanuts. Ford settled for a bag of cookie chips and a Pitt Cola.

“Hey,” Stan commented around a mouthful of chips, “you okay?” Ford realized he was frowning for the first time. He tried to nod but ended up shaking his head instead. Stan’s brow furrowed. He glanced around contemplatively. He took Ford’s elbow and guided him towards one of the large trees that lined the property. It was away from most of the crowd.

“’Sup, Sixer?”

"There's so much we don't know!" He said the words far more urgently than he'd meant to. They were out of him now and he couldn't stop more from joining them. "Why is this town so strange? Who wrote the journal? Is there another journal and how did Bud know about it? What does the government know about the weirdness of this town? What was Bill?" He sucked in a breath and went on. "There isn't a lot of summer left and I feel like I don't know anything."

Stan took all of the words Ford had just vomited at him in stride. He nodded his head as he listened and didn’t interrupt. Ford  _ hated _ being interrupted.

“So,” he stuffed the snacks in his pockets and dusted the chip crumbs off his hands, “want to sneak that card outta Graunty Mabel’s room?”

Ford nodded his head. Stan smiled and grabbed his shoulder. “Then let’s get it.”

* * *

Stan was naturally stealthy where Ford was not. By reason he should have been the one to sneak into Mabel’s room. However, Ford could not, under any circumstance, spin a convincing tale. That got him on card duty. Stan stood watch at the door while Ford snuck in their Graunty’s room.

It was a comfortable room. The bed was covered with a t shirt quilt and a few different knit blankets. She had several stuffed animals on the bed. Some looked ancient and worn, a few looked brand new. She had pictures on the night stand and several books. He almost went to check them out but he had to focus. There was no telling how long they had.

There was a cedar chest at the end of her bed that looked like a hopeful place. He lifted the top of it and peered inside. There were hundreds of balls of yarn, fabric, bottles of paint, a few quilts, and a few books inside. The books looked like the romance novels his mother was so fond of. He wrinkled his nose in distaste and shut the top. He went to the vanity next and pulled the top drawer open. It contained Mabel’s under things and he promptly slammed that drawer shut.

“Quiet!” Stan called from the doorway. Ford’s face was hot and he coughed with embarrassment. He cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses and went to the next drawer. He checked each one painstakingly but didn’t find anything. He went to the bathroom next and checked the drawers in there. He didn’t see any business card but he did find her impressive bubble bath collection.

He started to leave when the trash can caught his eye. Mabel may not have hidden it all. She might have… He leaned over, peered in the trashcan and saw the business card at the top. He plucked it out victoriously and went back to her bedroom. He grabbed the telephone off her vanity and dialed the numbers on the card.

The phone rang twice. “Agent Powers.”

“Hi,” His voice cracked. He swallowed nervously and went on. “This is Stanford pines, the kid from the Mystery Shack.” He swallowed again. “I have that Journal I wanted to show you.”

“And you’re certain this ‘journal’ will help our case?”

There was a rustling sound outside followed by a far too eager call from Stan. “Hey, Graunty MABEL!” He shouted the last word, presumably for Ford’s benefit.

“I’m a hundred percent certain it will prove invaluable to your case.” He rushed the words and clutched the phone more tightly. He couldn’t hear the conversation but he knew Stan wouldn’t be able to hold her off for long. He was a better liar than Ford but he’d had to give himself away a little to let Ford know she was there.

“Very well. We’re on our way.” Ford nodded his head and hung up the phone right as the door opened. Mabel stood there with wide eyes. She gazed at the phone in his hand, the card in his other hand, and then finally at his face.

“What,” She asked around a shaky breath, “did you do?”

“N-nothing!”

She pushed her way into the room. “I’m not an idiot, Stanford!” She took the card out of his hand and ripped it up. She looked furious like he had never seen her. Ford’s eyes darted nervously to his brother who looked just as shocked as him. Good. He wasn’t alone then. He hadn’t realized Mabel could actually be scary.

“Graunty?” Stan started. Mabel turned on him with infuriated eyes.

“No. Both of you, out. Now.”

Ford didn’t need any further prompting. He exited the room with Stan on his heels. Mabel slammed the door after them. Ford was pretty sure he heard her crying.

They didn’t look at each other until they were outside. Stan looked shaken.

“Did you at least reach them?” Ford nodded his head in answer. Stan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay then. Give me your coat.”

“Huh?”

Stan tugged on the coat sleeve. “Come on. She won’t really be looking for me. She’ll be looking for you. I’ll stay far enough away that she won’t know it’s me. Go meet these guys and find out what you can.”

Ford let him take the coat and blinked mutely. He couldn’t think of what to say. He’d just gotten them both in trouble, real trouble, and Stan was still helping him. Stan was in trouble with Graunty Mabel, who he loved, and he was still helping. What had Ford done to deserve him?

“Relax, Sixer. Mabel’ll forgive us.” He looked like he was trying to convince himself more than Ford.

“I’ll be quick.”

“Yeah,” Stan shrugged the coat on. “Just don’t cause more trouble.”

“It’s not like I’m going to raise the dead or anything.”

* * *

Stan had no idea how he did it, but that was  _ exactly _ what Ford did. Hell, it was probably his fault for putting the idea in his brilliant brother’s dumb head.

It had started with what they all thought was an earthquake. They were rocking to Durland and Blub’s horrid rap when the ground started to shake. It was joined by a deafening groan. The woods behind the house seemed to glow green but that might have just been a trick of Stan’s glasses.

Wendy pressed the button on the air horn Mabel had given her for crowd control. “Earthquake guys, we gotta get out of here!” Her words started a mad dash for the parking lot. Stan dove for the stage to get away from the mad rush of people.

Soos joined him in his mad dive. They both landed hard on the wood and rolled to the back. Stan was first on his feet. He’d been taught how to take a fall. Soos clearly hadn’t. He helped the boy upright and scanned the crowd frantically.

“Stan?”

He nodded his head. “Yep.”

“Why ya wearing Ford’s coat?”

“Long…story…” he saw his brother at the border of the woods running towards them. What caught Stan’s attention was the things following him. They were zombies. Something that looked like they came straight out of a comic book. They were lurching towards Ford. Hundreds of them. All with their arms outstretched. They moaned as they walked at varying speeds.

“Ford!” He shouted at the top of his lungs and ran towards his brother. “What did you do?”

“I’m sorry!” He panted. He was gasping for air by the time Stan reached him. The zombies were getting too close. Soos reached them a moment later, panting as well.

It was no good. There were way too many to fight. Even for Stan who loved punching things. He’d seen this movie. It didn’t end well for them. They didn’t even have weapons. He grabbed his brother and Soos' arm and ran back towards the house. They reached the refreshments table. Stan jumped on top of it and clambered to the other side. Ford followed his lead. Soos paused to grab a bag of burrito bites.

“We can’t just let it go to waste.” He justified.

The delay cost him. A zombified hand grabbed hold of his shoulder and jerked back. Both twins screamed as the decayed face bared its teeth and bit down on their friend’s shoulder.

The change was instantaneous. Soos’ skin turned a sickly greenish pallor and his mouth fell open. His eyes blinked, once, twice, and opened the third time with a ghastly glow. They screamed helplessly again.

“On second thought, gonna flip the script. Can I, eat your brains? Yea or Nay? Seeing some Yea faces over here.”

They screamed a third time and backed up. Ford was first to recover. He grabbed Stan and tugged him backwards. Both turned and ran towards the house. The zombies and Soos followed. They stumbled over the familiar grass until they reached the house. Ford screamed and ducked as a surprise Zombie popped up and took a swipe at him. Stan swung wildly with his knife and cut the arm off the attacking creature. It flopped to the ground but the monster kept coming.

“Inside!” Stan shoved his twin through the door and followed. The moans were everywhere. The entire house seemed to shake as zombies crowded around. They banged on the walls, the windows, the doors.

“What do we do?” Stan stuttered. Ford tugged the journal out and started to flip through the pages.

The door they’d just come through swung open and zombie Soos stumbled towards them.

“Sorry dudes,” he said cheerfully as he tucked a key to the Mystery Shack in his pocket, “I just really want those brains.” Zombies staggered in after him. Stan grabbed Ford by the collar and jerked him back into the Shack. They ran through the living room only to be surrounded by more zombies. Ford directed them towards the gift shop, past the stream of zombies pouring in through that, smashed, door, and to the EMPLOYEES ONLY section. They shoved the wooden door open. They could make a break for the back stairs but their exit was blocked.

“Oh no!” Ford skidded to a stop as more Zombies came around the corner. They were surrounded. There was no way out.

“The Journal!” Stan demanded. He grabbed the only thing he could see nearby. The shovel was old and dirty but it was better than the knife. At least this had range. “What does it say about weaknesses?”

“NO!” He shrieked with a wild panic in his eyes. “THERE'S NOTHING IN HERE ABOUT WEAKNESSES!” He backed up as Stan swung at the nearest zombie. He cut him in half. The monster started to crawl towards them. God, couldn’t they die?

“This can't be happening.” Ford said. He started to hyperventilate. Stan swung at one on their right. There were dozens of them, with more just pouring in. He cut two more in half but it didn’t seem to stop them for more than a few seconds. “I wanted answers so bad I put everyone in danger.” Ford continued talking like they weren’t surrounded. Like now was the right time for reflection. “Now we're toast, it's all my fault, and no one can save us!”

His brother screamed behind him. Stan swung around to see Ford being lifted in the air by his arm. A scream was torn from his throat and he lunged at the zombie. The zombies mouth opened and dropped towards Ford’s arm. Stan felt like he was moving in slow motion. There was no way he’d reach him in time. He was screaming his brother’s name and he was too. Damn. Slow.

SMASH

A bat came out of nowhere and cracked down on the zombie’s shoulder. He dropped Ford and fell to the ground. A purple, sparkly, boot came down and smashed the head. Stan grabbed Ford up as Mabel swung at another zombie.

“You two!” She snarled as she smashed in the zombies face. “Attic! NOW!”

Stan stumbled backwards at the force of the words. Ford was leaning against him and favoring his right leg. He had the journal clutched to his chest. There was zombie goo still on his arm.

“I can-“ Stan started.

Mabel cut him off. “I said NOW!” She met his eyes and he obeyed. There was something wild in her eyes. Feral. He couldn’t help her here. She was going to do this. He had to get Ford upstairs.

They took the steps two at a time. They could hear the smashes, thuds, squelches, and groans from below. She was shouting at the zombies as she tore them apart. Stan took most of Ford’s weight as they clambered up the stairs. They reached the top and turned to go up the second stair case. Ford shoved that door open and limped into the room. Stan slammed the door and pressed his body against it.

Ford was backing away from the door in horror. There was a thunderous crash from the stairs. It sounded like something heavy was falling down them.

What was he doing? He had just left her.

Something collided  _ hard _ with the door. It rattled enough that he bounced off it before flinging himself back at it. The door shook again and he was bounced back again. Ford caught his arm the second time and jerked him back . The door rattled, the knob shook, and then turned.

The door burst open and Mabel stumbled inside. She coughed twice and glanced at them. She saw them both standing, nodded her head, and turned to the door. She slammed it shut and propped a chair under the knob to stop it from turning.

“Oh god,” She coughed and straightened. Her hand went to her side and clutched the ripped sweater. “Everything hurts.”

Stan couldn’t move. Mabel was in front of him and she wasn’t green like Soos. She was breathing raggedly, coughing, and bleeding. Her right sleeve was missing off her boom-box sweater, her skirt and hair was covered with zombie bits, she had blood and zombie gunk on her face. Her glasses were askew and her headband was gone.

She backed away from the door and it shook.

“Graunty Mabel!” He finally exclaimed, “That was amazing!”

“Was it the journal?” She glanced back at them before training her eyes on the door again.

“Err,” Ford said unintelligently. Stan shook his head.

“Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry.” Mabel sputtered the words as the door shook again. The hinges strained as the zombies pounded on it. She rushed to the window and peered out it before reeling back. A zombie busted the glass. She shoved it back out. “I tried so hard. I failed. It’s happening again.”

“What?” Stan stepped closer to the door. Mabel seemed to have the window covered.

“I couldn’t keep you safe.” She shook her head and swung out at another zombie. Ford went towards Stan and tripped. The journal fell out of his hands and onto the floor. Stan glanced over to see what was happening and found himself choking.

He had looked over the undead entry a few dozen times. It was arguably the coolest page in the journal. He had never seen the blue text sprawled across it before.

“The text!” He blurted. Ford stopped and looked down at the book. His eyes got wide.

“Invisible ink!”

“What?” Mabel called from the window.

“The journal,” Ford explained as he dropped to his knees. “There’s another message written in invisible ink!” He scanned the page. “Zombies have a weakness! Previously thought to be invincible, their skulls can be shattered by a perfect three part harmony.”

“Harmony? How we gonna do that?” Stan pulled his knife out as the wooden door started to splinter.

Mabel squealed and he nearly dropped the blade.

* * *

Singing karaoke with Mabel had not been as bad as Ford expected it to be. It might have been the adrenaline from being chased by zombies, but he actually had a lot of fun. Stan was still singing the song under his breath. Soos was officially dezombied and sitting at the breakfast table. Ford and Stan were setting cereal, milk, and bowls out. Mabel came in a little less zombie goo covered.

She ruffled Soos hair and gave him a side hug. He beamed. She’d bandaged his arm herself while Ford had fed him the cure. She’d spent a half hour on the phone with Wendy and another half hour on the phone with Fiddleford to see if they’d made it out okay. (They had.)

“Hey you two.” Mabel snagged them and tugged them towards the kitchen. “I gotta show you something.” They followed her dutifully. She shut the door behind herself and released her hold on their shoulders.

“Okay.” She saw how tense Ford was standing and smiled at him. It did almost nothing to relax him. He felt tenser if anything. “Relax, Gumdrop. I’m not going to take the journal away from you.”

His body relaxed and he felt horrible even as the tension flowed out of him. He was a terrible person. He had nearly killed half his family and he was happy she wasn’t taking the journal from him. How selfish could he be?

“On one condition.” She leveled a very serious look on him. Almost as serious as she’d had a few hours ago when the zombies almost had them. “You have to  _ promise _ that you will only use it for defense and not go looking for danger.”

Ford nodded his head. “Sure.”

“No.” Mabel shook her head. “I want it in a pinky promise from both of you.” She held out both her hands and extended her pinkies. Ford had never made a pinky promise with anyone but Stan. He hadn’t made one in at least five years.

He gripped her pinky with one of his and crossed his fingers behind his back.

He had a feeling Stan did the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy that this is the thirteenth chapter, lol!


	14. Into the Bunker: You gotta admit, we’re all total heroes

Ford had never had a cooler morning. Fiddleford was sitting across from him at the breakfast table with a pile of spare parts. Ford had made an offhand comment that it should be possible to make a light bulb that wouldn’t dim and Fiddleford had heard him. The two had begun discussing theories and now they were actually making one.

Together.

Fiddleford was working on the mechanical side and Ford was working on the chemical side. They’d made a mess of the table and Ford had burned a small hole he hoped his Graunty never noticed. 

“So uh,” it had been a half hour and he was pretty sure he now had the courage to ask the question burning in his mind. Just thinking it had him feeling a little dizzy. 

“Yeah?” Fiddleford glanced up at him with a smile before returning his gaze to the bulbs base. 

“Stan and I are going to checkout this tree that might lead to the Author’s secret lab this afternoon.”

Fiddleford’s eyes refocused on him and widened with intrigue. Ford’s pulse spiked and he hurried on. “Want to come along?”

“Gee, that sounds like a lot of fun. I’ve been wanting to go on another adventure with you guys since the dinosaurs.” He checked his watch. “Gosh, it’s already eleven. What time were you two thinking?”

“After lunch?” 

Fiddleford shrugged. “Works for me.” The inventor smiled cheerily at Ford like it wasn’t going to make his heart race. He liked hanging out with them. He had been looking forward to it. Ford would pass out if he couldn’t get more air. He sucked in an extremely loud breath and managed to give something like a smile back to Fiddleford. 

Stanley was having a similar conversation with Wendy, albeit far more relaxed.

“This is the dumbest channel ever.” He declared with a fond laugh. Wendy snorted her soda through her nose and nodded while coughing. Stan pat her on the back and laughed. She’d managed to spray the tv. 

“What, you got good local tv?” She asked once she stopped coughing. 

“I don’t know. I don’t really watch it. We actually have internet so we don’t have to.”

Wendy shrugged. “Wifi signals suck up here. Come on!” She shouted to the tv. Stan directed his attention to the movie and saw that the idiot couple had been cornered by the slow moving zombies. “Just power walk away from them, they’re slow!” 

He grabbed the popcorn bowl. “Kinda sucks the fun out of these films when you’ve actually met the walking dead, huh?” Wendy nodded her head and stole some popcorn.

Stan threw a handful of popcorn in the air and caught about half of it in his mouth. “Ya got any plans this afternoon?”

“No.” Wendy said. Her phone buzzed and she rolled her eyes. “Other than ignoring Robbie. Look at this.” She tilted her phone towards him so he could read it. “What does a winky frowny face even mean?” 

“That he’s a nut.” Stan answered cheerfully. “Wanna hang with Ford and me this afternoon? We’re going to go down into some secret lair of the Author.” Wendy visibly perked up.

“Dude! That’d be awesome! I’ve been wanting to go on an adventure with you guys for weeks. I can’t believe Fiddsy got to go see Dinosaurs with you guys and I was hanging with Robbie.” She glared at her phone like it was responsible.

“Well, I don’t know if we’ll see any dinosaurs but I guarantee at least one freaky adventure. Ford’s a magnet for weird shit.” 

“This place is a magnet for weird shit.” Wendy countered. She grabbed a handful of popcorn and got almost all of it in her mouth. Stan gave an approving nod. He felt strangely relieved to hear her say that. This town was  _ weird _ . Like sci-fi novel weird. He had met a fairy tale creature three days after arriving here. They were now officially the least weird thing he’d seen here.

But no one talked about it. Half the town didn’t even seem to notice it.

It didn’t just attract fairy-tale creatures and monsters either. Even the people here were weird. Stan had been told he had ‘personality’ since he was a toddler. He had nothing next to some of these people. There was one single person who could qualify as normal in the entire town. And his name was Tad Strange for crying out loud. He kind of felt like Weird (and that word felt capitalized when it came to this town) was drawn here. He figured Ford would have wound up here even without Mabel. He had just the right kind of weirdness for it.

But… Stan had already fallen in love with this town. When he thought of home he thought of salty air and the sound of seagulls. He thought of sun warmed sand and climbing up rocks. He thought of the beach. He thought of dancing with his ma in sunlight. He thought of Ford’s smile as they worked on the boat.

But recently… Recently he thought of Ford sitting on his bed reading the journal. He thought of Mabel giving a tour. Of the scent of pine trees and the heat of summer. Of eating sparkly food and random dance parties. Of finding some weird creatures and watching his brother itch to write down facts about it. The feeling of knowing you could defeat the odds. Of being valued.

He’d started to think of Gravity Falls. Home had never been the apartment over the pawn shop. It had been the beach, his twin, and ma.

Wendy was looking at him and he realized he’d been silent for too long. He smiled awkwardly as the girl on tv gave a dying scream.

He opened his mouth and let the first words he could think of pour out.

“What do you think of the weirdness?” Wendy promptly looked away from him and to the tv. He’d asked the question more as a distraction. Now he wanted to know the answer. Wendy sat silently long enough that he thought he wasn’t going to get the answer. He directed his attention to the tv to see that the zombies were trying to break into an old shack. Huh. That was familiar. Luckily for the teenagers hiding inside, these zombies didn’t have a key.

“It’s getting weirder.” Wendy said shortly. She was still staring at the tv. She seemed to shrug. “I don’t know, man. I feel like something’s happening.” She grabbed some more popcorn and popped it into her mouth a piece at a time. “Maybe I’m just more aware of it?” She dusted her hands off and rolled onto her back. Her hat still stayed on. It was amazing. “I never get to spend summers here. Dad always send me to logging camp.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“Logging camp?”

She laughed. “You don’t want to know. Anyway. It’ll be fun. Maybe we can learn some things.”

“Not too much, though.” Stan added. “It is summer vacation after all. No school.”

“I hear that.” Wendy offered him a hand and he high-fived it. 

* * *

They gathered after lunch and brought a few ‘practical’ supplies. Stan was all for just going but Ford had balked. So they got some lights, rope, Wendy had her axe, Fiddleford had his tool belt (what if there’s a computer system that needs correcting?) and Ford had the journals. He also brought at least a dozen spare pens and thought Stan didn’t notice. Stan decided to be practical. He brought water and snacks.

They then went traipsing through the woods.

Ford led the group with the journal open. Wendy was up front with him, chopping low hanging branches and making sure Ford didn’t wander into a trap.

It was hot outside but Stan and Fiddleford seemed to be the only ones to actually notice. They were both wearing tanks and jeans and boots. Stan would have been in flip flops but Wendy had refused to let him go in the forest with those. It didn’t take more than three minutes for Stan to become a hot, sweaty, mess.

He swatted a mosquito that was dumb enough to land on his arm. Fiddleford gave the action an approving nod. He attempted to swat a mosquito and missed. The bug still flew off though.

“I think we’re getting close!” Ford called the words over his shoulder. Wendy grabbed his arm and guided him around a fallen tree limb. He didn’t even seem to notice. He looked at the journal, squinted, and scanned the area around them.

“There!” He pointed at a tree that looked like every other tree. Sort of. Stan wouldn’t have noticed it but now that Ford had point it out it looked odd. He glanced at Fiddleford who also looked confused.

“It’s the branches, right?”

Fiddleford nodded. “Yeah, they’re too symmetrical. And they all look exactly like each other.”

It looked like the other fake tree they’d found. The one that had the control panel to the hatch the journal was hiding in.

“Now what?” He called the words out loudly enough for his brother to here. He saw Ford shuffle through his pockets and pull out the portable black light. He flipped it on and peered at the invisible ink.

“I’m not sure. There should be a staircase down into the lab.” He looked up at the tree.

“I say we chop it down.” Wendy twirled her axe through the air.

“That probably won’t work. The tree is likely made of metal. The other camouflaged tree was.” Ford shuffled closer to the tree and knocked his knuckles against it. There was a hollow, metallic, clang.

“That there branch,” Fiddleford pointed to a branch thirty or so feet in the air. “Looks kinda like a lever, don’t it?”

“I’m all over it.” Wendy declared. She strode up next to Ford and took her belt off. Ford flushed a brilliant red and Stan had to shove his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing. The teenager took one end of her belt and slung the other around the tree. She got a good grip and proceeded to climb up the tree like it was the easiest thing ever.

Guess the logging camp helped out.

She reached the limb while the three boys watched. She tugged her axe free from her belt and swung it at the branch. The tree shook violently and the ground started to drop under their feet. Stan sprang backwards with the other as Wendy released a scream. She fell from the top of the tree and into the newly forming pit around the tree. Stan and Fiddleford sprang forward. They caught her arms and tugged her up. Ford wrapped his arms around Stan and helped pull him back. Together they got her out before the pit claimed her. The four stumbled back a few steps and watched. The not-a-tree had opened up at the roots into stairs that descended down in a spiral. Lights were slowly flickering on and illuminating the otherwise pitch black path. They were hit with a stale, metallic, scent laced with mildew. Spider webs hung from the walls, and he could see other bugs trying to hide in the darkness again.

“Remember,” Ford said, breaking the heavy silence around them, “whatever we find down there. We tell no one.”

Wendy made a zipping motion over her lips. Stan nodded solemnly. He couldn’t see what Fiddleford did. They pulled their flashlights on and clicked them on. Ford was the first into the pit, followed by Fiddleford, then Stan, with Wendy taking the rear.

Exactly one hundred and two steps later, Stan compulsively counted steps, they reached a door way. It was the size of the living room in the Mystery Shack, with a couple of shelves, a table, a desk, and a lot of junk everywhere. It was also dusty.

The first thing Stan noticed was the gasmask and the Fallout Shelter poster. He went to instantly and lifted it up. It was heavier than he’d have thought it would be. Wendy peeled the metal poster off the wall and tapped it.

“This is going over my bed.”

Stan snatched the mask and put it on. “I’m totally taking this.” Wendy laughed and gave him a thumbs up.

“It’s a good look.”

“This is incredible!” Ford gushed, “It's like he was preparing for a disaster.” He went to the shelves of food and considered them. “But what kinda disaster would need supplies for over sixty years?”

“From now or then?” Fiddleford asked. He tugged open a cabinet and frowned at its contents. From what Stan could see through the mask, it was a  _ lot _ of weapons. Dynamite, a mace, knives, gun looking things, axes, and a sword. He tugged the mask up and went towards it.

“True. The furthest out is 2070. Who knows when the author got this stuff?”

Stan reached the weapons stash and squeezed in next to Fiddleford. Fiddleford chuckled and backed up, letting Stan investigate. He considered grabbing some of the dynamite but he remembered hearing on tv that that stuff got unstable when it got old. He grabbed the knives instead. One was a normal dagger, but the other had a fancy hilt and looked like something a ninja would use. He fastened them both to his belt.

“Wait,” Ford’s voice was very calm and that alerted Stan more than the warning. His brother was only calm when he was serious or scared. He turned around and saw Ford straightening up from where he had been kneeling. He was holding an open bean can in his hands. “Someone’s opened this recently. It’s still wet.”

“Yeah,” Fiddleford replied. He pulled a map off the wall to reveal an open hatch like you’d see on a submarine. It made a shiver run down Stan’s spine. He turned back to the cabinet and grabbed the hand gun off as well. It was an old fashioned looking pistol. He was pretty sure he’d be able to operate it if he needed to.

“The author might actually be alive down here.” Ford murmured in awe. He seemed oblivious to the potential danger around them. Just like always.

They crawled through the open hatch, because they couldn’t very well go back. Wendy led the way because she was the most equipped to handle a threat. Stan took that personally but didn’t want to fight her over it. Besides, he’d rather be in the rear in case something tried to get them from the back.

It brought them out into a weird room. Every wall was covered in large tiles. They were metallic looking and very rusted.

“This is creepy.” He dead panned upon straightening up. Ford was dusting himself off. Stan elbowed him. “Why bother? There’s spider webs everywhere.” Ford stumbled from the push and stepped backwards. His foot landed on the only tile with a symbol on it.

The door slammed behind them, barely missing Stan’s arm. The tiles on the walls and floor started to glow with red symbols right as a  _ loud _ siren began to blare. The entire room shook and then the tiles started to push out towards them.

Everyone screamed.

Stan and Wendy ran to the nearest block and threw their weight against it. He shoved with all his might but it didn’t do anything.

“It’s not stopping!” He called over his shoulder.

“The red ones aren’t moving!” Fiddleford hollered.

“The journal!” Stan screeched as another one started to rise under his feet. Ford was flipping through the journal frantically. He pulled the black light back out nad turned it on.

“Here!” He pointed at the journal and the four symbols glowing with invisible ink. “We have to press these symbols in this order!” Stan squinted at the journal and then looked around.

“I got the first one!” Fiddleford called.

“Number two!” Stan added. Wendy found the third.

“I see the last!” Ford jumped for one of the rising squares and scrambled up it. He dove across it and hit a square right before it was covered by another one.

Horrifyingly, the squares didn’t stop.

Thankfully, another hatch opened.

There was a mad scramble to the open hatch. Stan was the first to fall into the new room. He scrambled up, spun around, and tugged Fiddleford, Ford, and then Wendy through. Her shirt sleeve got caught in the closed door. She shrugged out of it without hesitation.

Stan turned to Ford. His brother looked elated. As though they hadn’t just about all been squashed to death. There was an appropriately dazed gleam to his eyes but he knew it was excitement, not fear. The nerd had enjoyed that. Stan liked an adrenaline rush as much as anyone but he preferred them a little less deadly.

It was at that moment that he realized they’d landed in some kind of retro surveillance lab. It looked a little like Bud’s and that made him shudder. He saw two beakers sitting on the table and decided to do what he always did when he was really uncomfortable and in front of people that weren’t Ford.

“Hey,” he lifted them to his eyes, “check it out.”

Wendy laughed loudly and quickly. “Stan,” she said around a bright laugh that felt out of place in the dingy surveillance room, “Stan. That is hilarious.”

He laughed as well and set them back down. Ford had managed to make it into the room properly by now. Fiddleford was pressing buttons that weren’t seeming to do anything.

“This needs power.” The inventor mumbled. Ford heard him and went to the only other door in the place. He tugged it open and peered inside.

“Does anyone have a light? I lost mine.”

Fiddleford moved before Stan could. He flicked his light on and went towards Stan’s twin. He reached the room and shone his light in. Both of them stepped into what appeared to be a closet.

The door promptly slammed shut. Ford yelped in shock and that sent Stan jogging up to the door. He tried to tug it open but it didn’t budge. It didn’t have a normal handle. It had one of the turning things like the hatch had.

“Sixer, can you get it open?”

“No! Come on, let us out!”

“We didn’t shut the door.” Wendy explained. Stan tried turning the wheel on the door but it still wouldn’t budge. Wendy gave it a kick for good measure but nothing happened.

* * *

There wouldn’t have been enough room for two fully grown people. It was uncomfortable for Ford and Fiddleford. The flashlight was shining at the floor and not really making it any easier to see anything.

The wall he was pressed against wasn’t flat either. There were weird protrusions sticking out of it.

Fiddleford raised the flashlight and he saw that the protrusions were black. He also saw that there were only a few inches between him and the inventor.

“What is this place?” Fiddleford asked under his breath. He turned his head and it hit a string hanging down.

“Is that a light switch?”

Fiddleford shrugged and tugged it.

Cold water instantly poured out of the ceiling. Only it wasn’t water. There was a distinctive chemically taste to it. It soaked both of them. Before they could do more than gasp the black protrusions on the wall were blowing air out at them. Hard. He was forced into Fiddleford’s chest as the room lit up with an eerie red glow. A warning alarm went off.

The wall behind Fiddleford opened up. They stumbled through it rubbing at their eyes.

“What was that?” Fiddleford gasped. “A decontamination room?”

“It appears so.” Ford took his glasses off to clean them on his shirt. What he could see of the room was a gray and blue blur.

“What was the author expecting to happen?” Fiddleford stepped further into the dimly lit room as he spoke and raised his flickering flash light.

Ford put his glasses back on. “Perhaps he built this during the cold…war…” His voice trailed off as he got a proper look at the room around him.

It was a lab. One that looked like something out of a horror movie. There were pipes along the wall and ceiling, tables with an assortment of beakers, test tubes, Bunsen burners, burets, mortars, pestles, flasks, and clamps. There were a few vials and bottles of liquid he could see as well. The largest objects in the room were the stasis tubes that lined the far left wall. One had been broken and pieces of glass littered the floor around it. In the center of the room was a busted metal cage. It looked large enough to hold a bear.

Fiddleford wandered towards the wall with what looked like a breaker box on it. He popped it open and peered inside.

“Hmm. Looks like they blew a fuse.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of fuses. Ford couldn’t help but grin. Fiddleford noticed and blushed a little. “I always have a few on me. The Mystery Shack blows ‘em at the strangest time. I think she likes to test me.” He winked. “She’s a feisty old gal.” He passed the flashlight towards Ford. “Mind holding this while I-“

“Certainly.” He took the flashlight, his fingers brushing against Fiddleford’s. He heard his own breath audibly hitch and tried to pass it off as a cough. Fiddleford moved his fingers deftly and popped the dead fuse out. Ford turned his attention back to the room around them so he could breathe properly.

“What do you imagine he had in here? What was he surveying?”

Fiddleford shrugged. “I don’t rightly know. Those things look like the Bacta Tanks in Star Wars. But this might be cryonics instead of the liquid healing agent the films use.” He stepped back and flipped the breaker switch. There was a flicker and then the lights turned on overhead. The tubes lit up with an eerie blue glow.

“Fascinating.” He heard himself mumble. He walked towards the tanks and heard a loud crunching noise. He stopped midstep and looked down to see the remains of a test vial under his foot.

“You know,” Fiddleford murmured behind him, “this technology is strange. It’s brilliant work, but… The components are dated. I’d guess this was from the seventies, maybe the eighties but…” He looked over at Ford. “He’s modified each of them. This is an FPE panel.” He tapped the cover of the breaker box with his knuckle. “They’re terrible. They never trip properly and cause fires. The Mystery Shack had one when I first arrived. I replaced it with something of my own. This though,” he tapped the box again, “this has been fixed. He tinkered with it and added new bits of technology.” He hummed. “I’d love ta see more of his work.”

Ford opened his mouth to reply and promptly shut it again as he heard something coming from his far left. He turned to see what it was and noticed there were holes in the wall for the first time.

“What? Do you think could have made that hole? It looks like something an earth worm might have made but it’s far too large.”

“Huh,” Fiddleford walked towards him. “Look at that. Kinda unnatural, ain’t it?”

“They’re the size of the tubes.” He realized as he spoke how loud his voice was.

There was a thunderous growl from the third tunnel on the wall. Both of them jerked in fright and took a step back. They could see a large shadow moving towards them from the shadow. Ford grabbed Fiddleford’s wrist and dashed towards the door they’d come in from.

Fiddleford reached it first because he had longer legs. They both banged on the door.

“OPEN UP!”

* * *

Wendy was searching through the cabinets over head while Stan was searching under the computers. They needed something they could try and pick the lock with. Stan had never realized you could lock a door with a wheel for a handle. Then again, the Author hardly seemed like your typical guy. Or gal.

Stan was adept at lock picking, but he needed his tools. He’d left them at the Shack. So they were on a scavenger hunt.

He’d found a few pieces that could work for the pick, but he needed something for a tension wrench. Two, preferably. He didn’t want to break it and have to do this all over again. They’d also found a briefcase that they were pretty sure Ford would be interested in.

“Hey,” Wendy called. He rolled out from under the computer desk to see Wendy leaning towards him. She was standing on the table, holding onto the cabinet with one hand and holding a small metal object towards him.

He struggled towards his feet and went to investigate. It was the right size from what he could see. He reached her and grabbed the small object from her hand.

“OPEN UP!” The door to the closet his brother had been trapped in rattled as both Ford and Fiddleford’s voice’s shouted in union and pounded on it. Wendy yelped and lost her grip on the cabinet. She fell backwards and right on top of Stan. He would have enjoyed it at any other time but now it hurt and Ford sounded like he was in trouble.

He shoved Wendy off with an ‘ooph’ and struggled to his elbows.

“We’re trying!”

“THERE’S SOMETHING COMING!” Ford shrieked the words and Stan felt his heart rise to his throat. He grabbed the handful of picks and tossed himself at the door. His hands were shaking too much. He wouldn’t be able to do this.

He exhaled shakily and felt Wendy move up behind him.

“Is this the only door?” She demanded. There was a long painful pause as Stan tried to still his hands. He got the wrench and pick in the lock and wiggled it around to see what he could feel.

“The tunnels.” That was Fiddleford. There was a scream and then the entire door and wall shook as something hit it. Stan jerked hard enough to break the first pick.

“Shit!” Wendy gasped.

“FORD?!” Stan bellowed the word as loudly as he could. He banged the door and gave the wheel another jerk even though he knew it wouldn’t do anything.

“WE’RE RUNNING!” Ford replied and his voice was further away.

He grabbed his second pick and jammed it into the lock. It broke before he could even move it.

“Dude.” Wendy grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. “Calm down. I saw you break into the cash register forty-five minutes into your first shift at the Mystery Shack. You can do this.”

“I didn’t steal nothing.”

Wendy laughed a little too loudly. It was a panicked sound. “I know. That’s why I remembered it.” She smiled. “You were bored. I got it. Point is, you can do this. You weren’t even looking at the register when you broke in.”

She was right. He could do this. It was a simple barrel lock. He’d picked that a ton of times. This wouldn’t be any problem. He just had to calm down.

He turned back to the door and put the last pick he had in the lock. He exhaled through his nose like he was about to go into a fight. He let his body relax. He didn’t want to use up all his energy in being tense. He wiggled the pick around until he felt the first tumbler. He tapped it and gave the tension wrench a little twist. The first tumbler caught and he inhaled. He could do this. They were fine. He’d get this damn lock open and rescue his brother.

“Find something heavy to prop this door open. We don’t want to get it open just for it to shut on us again.”

* * *

The tunnels were dug out dirt. They weren’t lit at all and they smelt terrible. They were damp with who knew what and squished when they ran. It was hard to stay upright. His feet kept sliding as he ran. Fiddleford was fiddling with the flashlight in his hands as he ran. They could hear the thing behind them gaining ground. It was huge and pale and bug like. He hadn’t gotten a clear look before they’d had to bolt.

“Dadgummit!” They came up short as the tunnel abruptly ended. “Sugar Honey Iced Tea!” Fiddleford turned around and shone the now, far brighter, light at the tunnel they’d just come down. The creature shrieked and backed up. It screamed and another shadow appeared next to it. The new shadow, human shaped, hit the monster’s shadow.

“Back you devil!” Ford didn’t recognize the voice. He felt his heart pounding all the way down to his fingertips. He was nearly dizzy. He wasn’t sure if it was terror or excitement.

The shadows both disappeared and there was a heavy silence. The two glanced at each other. Fiddleford didn’t look like he had any more idea what was going on than Ford. Out of the shadows emerged a tall man. He had gray hair, goggles, a trench coat, a sweater, and boots on. He had thick rubber gloves on his hands and was covered with dirt.

“Well that was fun… who’s for Chinese?” The man said. He threw a tongue he had probably just ripped out of the monster down in front of them. It was covered in a thick goo and bleeding.

It was him. It had to be. He was exactly what Ford had imagined. “You-you’re the author!”

The man didn’t answer the obvious question. “Hurry now,” he turned and started walking down a side tunnel. “I scared it off, but it'll regenerate.” The tunnel would have been dark if it hadn’t been for Fiddleford’s light. It lit the entire area up so that they could see the scratches on the wall where the monster had dragged itself down the tunnel. But it was the author that had his attention. He was tall and broad shouldered. He looked to be in his sixties but might have been even older. His voice was gruff and deep. He walked with a purpose and confidence that Ford instantly admired.

“I wasn't expecting guests.” The author said after a few minutes. “I've been down here for a very long time.” He stopped walking. “Years! Weeks, maybe!” He turned around and looked at them with a frown. “I miss orange juice.”

“You don’t understand,” Ford gushed. He felt faint. He was flooded with adrenaline from nearly dying, Fiddleford was inches from him, and the Author was here. “I’ve read your book! I’ve been looking for you!”

“Who?” The Author replied. He stilled and frowned. 

“The Author of the journals! I’ve got so many questions! Why did you write the journals? Who was after you? Why did you build this bunker? What were you hiding from?”

The author laughed huskily. Ford’s breath hitched with excitement. “My boy,” he began, “I’d love to discuss this in time. We have more pressing matters however.” He glanced down the hallway with a worried frown. “That thing was one of my experiments that went wrong. It’s a shape shifter.”

“Like Mystique?” Fiddleford asked. He turned the light on the tunnel they’d just come down. There was nothing down it.

“I have no idea who that is.” The author replied seriously. “The creature can take the form of anything it sees. It broke free from a cage of solid steel!

“The one in the lab?” The Author nodded his head to Ford’s question.

“Precisely. I’ve been going mad trying to catch it alone. But now you’re here! You found my journal, you’re clearly quite clever. Will you help me catch it?”

His gasp was loud. Too loud but he didn’t care. “Of course!”

The author nodded his head. “Good. Follow me.” He continued down the hall. Ford instantly followed him.

Fiddleford caught his arm and tugged him back slightly. He hadn’t moved. “Wait,” he murmured, “I got a bad feeling about this.”

“About what?”

“About him. These tunnels. That monster. Something isn’t ringing right.”

“But,” he glanced down the tunnel where the author was nearly out of sight. It was him, obviously. He knew about the journals, he was smart. He looked right. He’d even called Ford smart. He couldn’t give up a chance to work with the man. “it’s him.”

“Alright,” Fiddleford released him. “I’ll trust ya.”

That made him feel warm. He quickly hurried after the author so Fiddleford wouldn’t see his blush.

* * *

The lock clicked open and Stan very nearly shouted in joy. He wrenched the wheel to the right and the door swung open.

“Victory!”

“Dude!” Wendy high fived him and shoved the chair into the door way. It wedged the door open. She grabbed the briefcase and followed him into the room. There was a red light flashing and the words: ‘Decontamination Complete’ were lit up over the opposite door.

There was a huge lab in front of them. It looked like something from one of Ford’s nerdy science movies. What really caught both of their attention was the busted metal cage in the center of the room.

“Damn.” Wendy muttered. “That’s a  _ bear _ cage.”

“What kinda creature could bust out of that?” He couldn’t see Ford or Fiddleford anywhere.

“The kind we don’t want to meet. Come on.” She pushed him towards one of the strange tunnels in the wall. “We’re going down that one.”

* * *

“Come on over here.” He led them to a small dig out in one of the tunnels. There was a bed looking lump and a few rocks that had fabric draped over them. “I apologize for the state of things. I don’t get many visitors.” He wandered towards the wall with his hand on his chin. He lifted his goggles up with his other hand. “Now… the monster must have a weakness we can exploit. Alas… If only I had my journal.”

“Journal?” Ford piped eagerly. He didn’t notice Fiddleford cringing at his side. He reached into his trench coat and pulled the journal out. “I found one! That’s how I found this place.”

The author turned and looked at him with wide eyes. “My journal?” Ford showed it to him and the man’s face lit up. “Oh! Yes, after all these years.” He took it from Ford’s hands and hugged it to his chest. He turned away from them and began to leaf through the pages.

Ford felt a tap on his shoulder. Fiddleford was trying to pass him something. He’d gone extremely pale. Ford dropped his gaze to the object in his crush’s hand and found himself paling as well.

It was one of the bean cans. The figure on the front was exactly what the ‘Author’ looked like. He felt his mouth fall open as his heart dropped to his stomach. He locked eyes with Fiddleford and saw the same terror and understanding in them. He couldn’t speak. He wasn’t even sure he could breathe.

What had they done? What was this thing?

“Uh,” his voice cracked. He swallowed and tried again. “Uh, I uh…” Where was Stanley when he needed him? Stanley never hesitated to come up with a story. They just flowed.

Apparently it didn’t matter. The ruse was up. The guy in front of them who was not the author turned his head and looked at them. He did it without turning his body. His neck twisted 180 degrees.

Both boys took an involuntary step back. The face elongated in front of them. He peeled his lips back showing not only his fangs but his gums as well.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Its voice morphed as he spoke into a snarling, rasping voice. Its body began to morph into the bug creature.

“You!” he stuttered the word out. “What did you do to the real author?!”

The creature laughed and climbed up on the ceiling. “You'll likely never find out. That nerd hasn't been himself in thirty years! But I thank you for bringing me his journal. He used to write it while I was in my cage. So many wonderful forms to take!” He began to flicker into different forms. The Gremloblin, a gnome, the Hide Behind. He laughed in each horrible iteration. It made his skin crawl.

Fiddleford latched on to his arm and tugged him backwards.

“RUN!” He hurled the can at the monster’s face while Fiddleford flashed his light directly into the monsters eyes.

They dashed down the tunnel they’d come from and down another. They could hear the thing gaining on them. They reached a forked tunnel. Fiddleford pulled his hand back and hurled the flashlight down the right tunnel. He shoved Ford down the left.

“Go. Go. Go!” he urged quietly. Ford followed.

* * *

Stan rounded a corner with Wendy and stopped. He heard footsteps coming towards them fast. He braced himself and lifted the knife. Wendy readied her axe.

Ford and Fiddleford rounded the corner ahead of them with wild eyed panic.

“Ford!” His brother barreled into him before he could stop. He scrambled backwards and popped up.

“Stan? How do I know it’s you?!”

“What kinda question is that?” He stood back up with Wendy’s help. Fiddleford was panting and staring back down the tunnel they’d just come up.

“The monster-it’s a shape shifter.”

“Cool.” He rolled his neck.

“Not cool.” Ford picked up a rock and held it like he was going to hurl it at him. “Prove you’re you.”

“How am I supposed to do that, you nerd?” He rolled his eyes. “And a rock? You can’t aim to save your life.”

Ford lowered the rock and launched himself at Stan. He barely steadied himself before his brother was hugging him.

“It’s you!”

“What are you talking about?” Wendy demanded. Fiddleford answered.

“The monster can take on any form. It’s got the journal.”

“Wait,” Stan held up a hand. Ford released him and straightened his trench coat. He looked embarrassed. “We’re fighting Mystique?”

Fiddleford nodded. “Essentially.”

Of course. Why not. They’d had telekinesis with the amulet. Why not add another x-men thing in?

“Quick,” Fiddleford motioned for them to go down the tunnel. “He’s coming this way.”

Wendy ran away from the group and towards the adjacent wall. There was a pipe sticking out of it but he didn’t see why that mattered at this particular moment. She pulled a lever attached to it and suddenly there was water  _ everywhere. _ It filled the tunnel and swirled around them. He heard the monster screech in an unearthly way and then he was being dragged into the water’s current. He thrashed around wildly. It was like being caught in a rip tide. He couldn’t control where he was going and he was a strong swimmer.

He saw the rock a second before he hit it, but it was too late to move.

* * *

Ford coughed out the water in his lungs and pushed himself up. He saw one of the knives Stan had been wielding to his right. He snatched it up and rose shakily. He felt dizzy. The ground was muddy and squelched under his feet. He’d lost his glasses but thankfully, he had a spare. He pulled them out of his coat and slipped them on. The world came into focus around him. Fiddleford was sputtering a few feet away. He ran to the inventor’s side.

“Fiddleford!”

“Hey,” he coughed up a bit of water and struggled to his feet. He’d lost his glasses as well. Where were they even? The tunnel looked different.

“Where are the others?” Fiddleford asked. He wiped the water away from his face with a soaked sleeve and gave it up for the lost cause it was.

“I’m not sure.” Ford’s stomach twisted. The knife felt cold and heavy in his hand. Stanley… Where was his twin?

Wait.

“How do I know you’re you?”

“Uh…” Fiddleford rubbed his head. “Your Graunty has a pig named Waddles?” Ford nodded in satisfaction.

They followed the tunnel downwards where the water had led. They found Wendy’s axe and hat as they walked. Eventually they found their way back to the main lab.

“Bro?” Ford spun on his heel and saw Stanley limping towards him. He was soaking wet and holding his right side. That was where he’d been bruised. Ford couldn’t remember what had caused that particular injury. There were so many fights at this point.

“Stan!” He exclaimed. He darted forward a step before stopping in dread. Stan-if that was him – had the journal. How could he know who it was?

“Relax.” He coughed and shivered. “It’s me, Bro.”

“NO!” Another shout came from the tunnel behind him. Ford stepped backwards as a second Stan appeared. This one looked pissed. “THAT’S NOT ME, SIXER!” The second, and probably real, Stan, barreled into the first Stan. He wrapped him up in a tackle and knocked him down. They punched each other merciliessly, rolling around until Ford was hopelessly lost.

“STOP!” Fiddleford was the one that shouted. Ford couldn’t manage it around the lump of fear in his throat. Both the Stans had their hands on the journal. Fiddleford waved the axe threateningly and the Stans stopped.

“He’s fake!” The one on top shouted.

“Can’t you see this jerk’s the shape shifter?” The one on bottom countered.

“We’re twins, dumbass!” The top one replied.

“We can’t tell you apart,” Ford finally managed. He clutched the knife more tightly. “Give us a sign or something.”

“Come on, Sixer.” The one on bottom said with a smile.

The one on top raised his hand. “High Six?”

Ford moved forward on instinct and slashed at the bottom one. His hands shook and he felt like he was going to hyperventilate as he cut into the thing that looked like his twin. It screamed in pain with Stan’s voice and for a moment he was certain he’d made a terrible mistake.

The blood was green.

Stan, the real Stan, jumped off the shape shifter with the journal. The shape shifter scrambled to its feet only to be met with Fiddleford and Ford both shoving it. They shoved it backwards into one of the containment tubes. It slammed shut and both Fiddleford and Ford jumped back. The tube lit up with blue light and ice began to crackle around the edges as it filled with smoke.

“Stan and me had plenty of time to get acquainted with that room.” Wendy said. She was walking out of the control room with a mischievous grin. “He’s not going anywhere now.”

A loud bang distracted the entire group. The shape shifter had its palms flat against the glass. It was still wearing Stanley’s face but it had six fingers on each hand now.

“You think you're so clever don't you, child? But you have no idea what you're up against. You will never find the author. If you keep digging, you'll meet a fate worse than you can imagine. And this will be the last form you ever take!” It contorted into a scream of pain and agony as its body froze solid.

Both twins watched it with wide eyes.

“Well,” Stanley finally said. “That’s horrible.” He slung an arm around Ford’s shoulder. The familiar weight of it was enough to make him suck in a shaky breath. “Now let’s get out of this place.”

* * *

They made it out of the bunker in one piece. No one said anything as they started the trek back to the Mystery Shack. Stan felt a little dizzy now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

Would that thing stay like that forever? Frozen in their shape while screaming?

He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

“Hey,” Wendy said randomly. She hefted the briefcase she’d been carrying up. “Dude, I forgot about this.” She passed it to Ford. “It might have something about the Author in it.”

Ford took it and examined the lock. He fiddled with it and suddenly the top was popping open.

“Wendy?” He said in a subdued tone. “This isn’t a briefcase.” He looked up and Stan nearly laughed. There were stars in his brother’s eyes. “It’s a  _ laptop. _ ”

“Say what?” Fiddleford shuffled towards him and peered down at the laptop in question. Stan joined him. Sure enough, it was an old fashioned laptop. It looked damaged.

“Property of M.” Ford ran his fingers along the label at the top as he read it. “I wonder who ‘M’ is.” He looked at Fiddleford. “Could you fix this?”

Fiddleford picked it up and examined it. “I reckon I could.”

The twins shared a smile. They might finally have an actual clue to who the Author was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I am having a really hard time writing Ford/Fiddleford interaction. I kept trying to write it here and kept switching to Stan&Wendy interaction instead.  
Kudos if you can spot the Star Wars and Joker quotes ;) A nod to Mr. Hamill and his acting career.


	15. Sock Opera: Just to warn you, people's eyes will get wet

It had been two days since the bunker and Stan felt terrible. Which really sucked because Fiddleford dropped the laptop off. Ford had booted it off and muttered something about a password that Stan was too sick to understand.

He was so tired he couldn’t even lift his head off the table. It felt like his head was stuffed full of cotton. He couldn’t think through it.

“Gumball,” a cup was pressed into his hand. “Drink.”

“Can’t.” He mumbled into the table. It tasted like maple syrup.

“Come on, Stanley.” A six fingered hand landed on his forehead and he smiled against the wood his face was smashed against. “Just try.”

He pushed himself up and tried to focus his vision on who was in front of him. Ford and Mabel were peering down at him with varying degrees of worry. Huh. Not good. He couldn’t really think but he knew he didn’t like that look on them. They shouldn’t be worried.

He was shivering. Was it cold in here or was it just him?

The cup was pressed in his hand again. He dropped his eyes down and saw a mug with a smiley face on it. There was something in the mug but he couldn’t seem to make his eyes focus on it.

Mabel helped it to his lips and he took a sip. It was warm and sweet. It soothed his throat which he hadn’t realized really hurt.

“Ford,” Mabel said as she helped him take another sip. “Can you help him into the living room?”

His chair was tugged away from the table and his brother was lifting him up. Ford draped his arm over his shoulders and helped drag/carry him to the living room. He was lowered onto the couch. He promptly flopped over on the arm of the couch. It was wonderfully soft.

Ford considered him for a moment. “You cold?”

“Yes.” He realized he was shivering. Ford walked away and came back with a thick, knit blanket. He draped it around Stan’s shoulders. It was warm and soft and he snuggled into it with a happy sigh.

Mabel came in a minute or an hour later. Stan had no concept of time anymore. He’d zoned out into the sick realm. He wasn’t thinking, just staring at the wall.

“Do you two typically get sick together?”

“Yes.” Ford answered.

He hadn’t even realized Ford was sitting next to him. How out of it was he? His brother was reading what looked like the journal.

“Hmm,” Mabel came over and felt his forehead. Her hand was cold and felt strangely nice against his skin. “You’re pretty warm… I think you should stay here today. Ford, you’re welcome to keep him company or come work in the shop. I’ll be giving tours for a while. I’ll make you some lunch and have someone check on you every half hour.”

“I’ll stay.” Ford said quietly. Stan smiled even though it hurt a little.

“That’s fine. I’ve left some juice on the table for both of you. Make sure and wash your hands. The tissues are on the counter if he needs them.”

She gave him a kiss on the forehead and left the room. Stan wanted to say something but he was much too slow. 

“You okay?”

He turned to face his brother. Ford was blurry. Where were Stan’s glasses? He couldn’t remember putting them on this morning. “I think I’m dying.” 

“Do you think it’s from the lab?” 

Huh. That made sense. 

He started when Ford’s hand brushed along his forehead. There was a cut on his forehead where he collided with the rock. His brother was tracing underneath it. He’d also wrestled with the shape-shifter thing. He couldn’t remember anything from the fight. He shrugged and slumped further into the blanket. Ford looked worried. 

“What’s wrong?” He managed after thinking about the words for a minute. 

“Nothing.” Stan was sick and even he was aware enough to realize that whatever was wrong with his brother was a big something. His brother was very worried. About him unless he was mistaken. 

“No, what is it?” He swallowed and realized his throat was sore. He grabbed the juice off the table a little clumsily. It was good. Not as good as whatever she’d given him before but it helped his throat.

“If it was from the lab…” Ford trailed off and bit his lip nervously. Stan was too tired for this.

“I can normally understand ya, Sixer. But my brain ain’t working too good right now.”

“What if it’s not a normal disease? What if it’s something mutated?”

Stan shrugged. He didn’t understand what that meant and didn’t really care one way or the other. 

“Could ya read to me?” He closed his eyes and curled into a ball inside the blanket. Ford hesitated for a second.

“June 18th. It’s hard to believe it’s been six years since I began researching the strange and wondrous secrets of Gravity Falls, Oregon.”

He let himself get lost in the lull of his brother’s voice and fall asleep.

* * *

Ford hadn’t slept at all the previous night. He hadn’t slept much the night before either. When they’d gotten back from the bunker he’d had a nightmare of slashing the shape shifter only he’d attacked the wrong one. His brother had screamed and then he’d morphed into the screaming form the shape shifter had frozen in.

The next morning Stan had started coughing and sneezing. He hadn’t thought much of it until that night when the cough got worse.

By the second day he was undeniably sick. Mabel was convinced he had a simple summer cold. Ford wasn’t certain. 

“Don’t worry, Gumdrop.” Mabel had said that morning. “People heal fast in Gravity Falls.” She tapped his cheek near the spot where he’d gotten hurt by the Bud-bot. The wound was almost gone.

Fiddleford gave him the laptop when he came in for work. He’d been thrilled for a few minutes until he figured out it was protected with an eight letter password. There were no capitals and, assuming it didn’t include a number there were still over 60 billion possible combinations. There wasn’t enough summer left for him to type in all those combinations. 

He’d tried ‘password’ and got a bonk for his efforts. He’d then tried stanford for the heck of it and also got a bonk.

Normally he’d have fun thinking up combinations with Stanley. His brother would come up with funny ideas at least.

Instead Stanley was passed out in a blanket and snoring. It was a gasping snore that kept freaking Ford out. It sounded like he couldn’t breathe. He’d been running a fever on and off all morning. His cut looked like it might be developing a rash, but the rest of his face was pale.

What if he was really sick? What if he caught some weird disease from the shape shifter? What if he got really sick?

Confused, blizzard, and stubborn also got a bonk. 

He was so tired. 

“Time is it, Sixer?” Stan asked. He was peering out the top of his blanket with bleary, red eyes. 

He glanced at his watch. “Three.”

“How long have I been asleep?” Stan pulled the cover around the top of his head. 

“A few hours.” Possible got another bonk. 

“You okay?” He nodded his head before realizing his brother couldn’t see him.

“I’m fine.” He smiled softly. He dug through the blanket until he found Stanley’s forehead. His twin felt a little warm. He set the laptop down and climbed off the couch. “Hold on a second. I’m going to get you some medicine and tea.”

Stan made a blargh sound from within his cocoon. Ford ignored him and grabbed the medicine. He brought it and a cup of hot tea back.

“Here.” He found Stan’s face in the blanket and held the cup of medicine to his face. “Drink.”

“Don’t wanna.” Stan replied without moving his lips.

Ford raised a tired eyebrow. “It wasn’t a question. It was an order. Drink or I will make you.”

Stan smiled, still not opening his mouth. “Ya couldn’t.” He sneezed and Ford snatched his hand and the medicine away from it. “I’m sick but I’m still stronger than you.”

“If you do not take this medicine, you will be ill for longer. The longer you are ill the higher the probability that Graunty Mabel or I contract it.”

Stan glared. A second passed and then he opened his mouth. Ford helped him drink the medicine.

“That was dirty, Sixer.” Stan sighed. He drank a little of the tea. Ford joined him on the couch again. Stan barely managed to put the mug down before he was asleep again. His snores sounded less difficult.

He directed his weary eyes at the laptop again.

Puzzling. Bonk. Dizzying. Academic. Evidence. Notebook. Bonk. Bonk. Bonk. BONK.

"Just a few more tries." He mumbled to himself. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. He typed in 'question' and got another annoying bonk. "Ugh." He dropped his head back against the couch. "I cannot take that sound anymore." He banged his hands against the keyboard and got more bonks. "I. Hate. You. Sound." He yawned again and felt his glasses slipping down his nose. There had to be some shortcut or clue he was missing. Who could know about secret codes?

The window to his right suddenly rattled, making him jump. He looked up and saw that the tv in front of them - which he'd turned off hours ago - now had a large eye in the center of it. Bricks appeared around the tv and the color around the room seemed to fade away.

"I THINK I KNOW A GUY."

Ford jumped and nearly dropped the laptop. Bill Cipher floated out of the tv and hovered towards him.

"Well, well, well! You're awfully persistent, Sixer! Hat's off to you!" He took his hat off and as he lifted it the entire tilted sideways. Ford yelped as he found himself falling off the couch. He flailed his arms wildly only to find himself right back on the couch.

"Cipher!" He snarled once he'd managed to right himself. He clutched the laptop to his chest.

"Did you miss me?" Bill laughed. He flashed brighter as he spoke. "Admit it," he goaded, "you missed me!"

"Hardly!" He pounded his fist against the side table. "You worked with Gideon! You tried to destroy my aunt's mind!" He didn't think he'd ever forget the way Mabel had thrashed in pain. Her cries of pain as he tortured her mind were terrible.

What was it doing in their house?

"It was just a job, kid! No hard feelings! I've been keeping an-" Bill suddenly grew so he filled the entirety of the living room and his voice rumbled lowly, "EYE ON YOU" he shrunk back to his normal size and pitched his voice back up. "Since then, and I must say I'm impressed!"

"Really?" He asked before he could think better of it. He'd impressed this thing? And what had he seen? The Bud-bot?

"Yep!" Bill replied cheerily. "You deserve a prize! Here, have a head that's always screaming!" He clapped his hands together and a head appeared on the coffee table. It was pale and moldy looking with long dark hair that was bound back in a hair bow. His face was wrinkled and he was screaming at the top of his lungs even though it was just a head and shouldn't have been able to scream.

Ford screamed right back in shock. It was so much worse than the zombies. It still really looked human.

Bill snapped his fingers and the head disappeared. He laughed like a maniac.

"The point is, I like you!" He winked his eye and Ford felt his own eyes widening. "How's about you let me give you a hint, huh?" He hovered closer. "I only ask for a small-" his voice dropped low again as he extended his hand. The hand lit with blue fire as did his eye. "FAVOR" he dropped the hand and the fire faded, "in return."

Stan shuffled slightly next to him. A wave of protectiveness surged in his chest. This creature had thrown his brother and sent a wraith version of their father after him. He couldn't forget or forgive that.

"I'd never do a favor for you!"

Bill floated back towards the tv without seeming particularly perturbed. "Well if you ever change your mind, Sixer, I'll be here for you, ready to make a deal." He waved his hand and five cards appeared above his head. They flipped over to show five aces. "Hey, wanna hear my impression of you in about three seconds?" He laughed, flashed horribly bright and screamed.

Ford raised his head up from the laptop he had fallen asleep on and screamed. He felt Stan jump from the blanket bundle beside him.

"What?" Stan stuttered sleepily. He shoved his way free of his blanket prison and raised sleepy fists. "What is it? Sixer? You okay?"

Ford blinked at his brother. His heart was pounding. He felt the urge to hide and couldn't think of what to say.

"Ford?"

"F-fine." He stumbled over the word and cringed. Smooth. Real smooth. Thankfully, Stan was still a little delirious. His twin rubbed sleep bleary eyes and shook his head.

"Woah," he yawned after he got a proper look at Ford. "Bag check for Sixer's eyes." He snorted at his own joke and slumped into the blanket as he was hit with a laughing fit.

"I just had a dream with Bill in it." He had really meant to tell but he couldn't stop the words. He couldn't make himself look at the tv. He was terrified the eye would be there looking at him.

"Bill?" Stan asked. He got a hold of the giggle fit and sat up a little. "Bill who-wait-the triangle?"

"Yeah. He... he wanted to make a deal with me to get in the laptop." He laughed and realized it didn't sound particularly sincere.

There were billions of possible combinations... He would never get in the normal way.

"A deal?" Stan looked more alert than he had all day. His brown eyes focused on Ford and were intent in their study of him. "What'd he want?"

"He, uh, didn't say. I didn't make a deal."

Stan didn't break his eye contact. "Never make a deal when you don't know what the other guy wants. That's how cons happen. The conman always knows more than you do." Anything else he might have said was lost in a violent coughing fit. Ford sprang from the couch to grab his tea for him and realized it was entirely empty. 

“Hold on!” He grabbed the empty mug. “I’ll get you something to drink.” He ran towards the kitchen and promptly stopped in his tracks. It looked like a craft store had blown up. There was yarn, felt, ribbons, sequins, glitter, thread, beads, fur, glue, and a thousand other things scattered over every available surface. Susan and Soos were seated at the table while Mabel was pulling things out of the fridge.

“Ford,” They all greeted cheerfully. “How’s Stan doing?” Mabel added.

"Coughing." He blurted unintelligently. He couldn't understand what he was seeing. There were socks mixed in with the huge pile of crafting supplies.

“Oh no!” Susan gushed.

"Has he gotten worse?" Mabel set the bowl of cheese dip aside and pulled out a pitcher with sparkly pink liquid. She poured a cup and added a few plastic sharks.

"No?" He shook his head and forced his thoughts to clear. He couldn't hear Stan coughing any longer. "He seems about the same. He had a coughing fit and had no tea. I wanted to get him a refill. Why are you here?" He directed that question towards Soos. He didn't want to sound rude but the question had come out a little short.

"We're making puppets for the Sock Opera." Soos said like he'd properly explained things.

"There's a puppet show contest at the community center. Priscilla wins every year because Preston buys her custom made puppets. We're going to dethrone her this year." Susan explained. She had an eager gleam in her eyes as she spoke about dethroning. Stan had mentioned she didn't like Priscilla but Ford hadn't paid much attention.

"Miss Pines is letting us use her craft supplies." Soos added. Mabel pressed the glass into Ford's hand.

"Give this to him. I guarantee it will make him feel better."

He considered the liquid in the glass. There was glitter in it. He was almost certain this wasn't any sort of real medicine and was in fact Mabel Juice. However, he didn't want to hurt his Graunty Mabel's feelings. He accepted the glass and wandered back to the living room. Stan was trying to chuck his tissues into the trashcan. He’d missed several. 

“Hiya, Sixer.” He greeted, sounding louder than he had all day. “I think I got some of that gunk outta my chest. I can almost breathe again.” 

Ford passed him the cup. He felt… weird. He was tired and didn’t feel like interacting with people. Why had Mabel invited them over anyway? How was he supposed to crack the secret of the laptop if there were people everywhere?

“What is this?” Stan asked as he took the cup. He swirled it’s contents and smiled as the sharks fluttered like they were swimming.

“Graunty Mabel said it was ‘medicine’ but I’m 98% certain it’s just Mabel Juice. Drink at your own risk.” He settled on the couch next to his twin and opened the laptop. God how he hated the password screen. 

Stan took a sip of the juice and promptly started to cough. 

“Gah!” He gasped. “That really packs a punch!” He took another sip and grimaced a little. “It’s makin’ my jaw tingle.”

“Stanley?” Susan was standing in the doorway with her hands clasped behind her back. She was blushing and looked nervous. Stan sputtered on the third sip he was taking and gagged a little. 

“Susan!” He squeaked the word and promptly flushed with embarrassment. He took another sip of Mabel Juice before speaking again. “What do we owe the surprise visit to?” 

“There’s a puppet show contest at the community center tomorrow night. Mabel is letting me use her craft supplies for my sock puppets.” She paused and bit her lip. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” He swallowed thickly and tried to squash the blankets down to make it look less like he’d been in a blanket cocoon. He blushed hotter when he realized he was in his pajamas. They were the pirate themed ones. Ford would have laughed if Susan wasn’t there.

His twin fidgeted with the Mabel Juice. “So, what’s the puppet show tomorrow?”

“Oh,” Susan pulled something out of her pocket. It looked like a card. She turned it over in her hands and fiddled with the edge of it. “I… I wanted to invite you to the show.” She glanced up at him and blushed brighter. “Do… Do you think you’ll be well enough?”

“Yep!” Stan said it too loudly and it made him get hit with a coughing fit. He hacked into a tissue Ford passed him and then took a few more sips of Mabel Juice. “I’ll be there.” He gave her a toothy smile. She returned it with a large, bashful smile. 

She started to take a step forward before stopping. “I’m not allowed in there. Mabel told me not to so that I don’t catch it.” 

Ford sighed and put the laptop down. He got up and went to Susan. She passed him the card.

“Thank you.” she said. “You’re invited as well.” He nodded his head and walked back to Stan. His brother took the envelope and laughed. One of Mabel’s stickers was on it. It was a picture of an orange dressed like a Jamaican and it said ‘Orange You Happy Mon.” He lifted the flap and took the card out. It was pink and glitter fell off it onto the blanket. He read what it said and smiled cheerfully. 

“Susan!” Soos called from the kitchen. “The dye is boiling!” Susan jumped and turned towards the kitchen. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Stanley.” She gave him a dazzling smile and ran towards the kitchen with her brown hair bouncing.

Stan smacked him on the arm the minute she was out of sight.

“She just invited me out!” He exclaimed as loudly as he could without coughing. He took a long swig of Mabel juice without choking. Ford gave him a tired smile. He knew it had been bothering his brother that Susan hadn’t initiated any of their ‘hangouts.’ 

“Think you’ll be better by tomorrow?” 

Stan nodded. “I don’t know what she put in here but my head already feels clearer.” He swirled the liquid and smiled fondly as the little sharks clinked against the glass. 

Ford grabbed his laptop back up. He popped the lid up and glared at the flashing screen. 

“How’s that going?” 

“It takes me five seconds to type in a word. The computer takes another five seconds to check if it was the password or not. I can only test six words a minute. I’ve tried two hundred different words on my list.” He sighed and rolled his neck. “I had to get a couple books from the library to find a list of eight letter words.” He looked at Stan who was giving him his full attention even while he drank the rest of the Mabel Juice. “There are over six hundred billion possible combinations.”

“How?” Stan sputtered. 

“It doesn’t necessarily have to be an actual word.” 

Stan wrinkled his nose. “That sucks.”

“Yes.” He yawned and got another bonk. Was there a way to mute this thing? “Any ideas for the password?”

“Urinated.” Stan said with a big grin. Ford tried to keep his glare steady. He loved Stan’s stupid sense of humor.

“I’m not typing that in.” 

Stan laughed and leaned back against the couch He propped his legs up on the coffee table. 

“You’re loss, Sixer.” He draped the blanket over his lap and closed his eyes so he missed the frown on Ford’s lips. He could hear Bill in his dream.

_ Well if you ever change your mind, Sixer, I'll be here for you, ready to make a deal. _

* * *

Sock puppets had taken over the house. They were on the chairs, the beds, the couch, the shower curtains. His blanket was covered in glitter and there were bits of felt all over the carpet. Ford had would up with yarn in his hair somehow.

Stanley didn’t seem to notice any of it. He was too busy enjoying the fact that he could breathe again. 

Ford had slept even less last night if it was possible.

He was sitting on the bed and trying to ignore the puppets surrounding him. He was pretty sure they were the failed puppets but that didn’t matter. They were everywhere and it felt like they were looking at him.

Bonk. Bonk. BONK.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes. He blinked and tried to focus on the screen. The text on it had changed.

_ Too many failed entries. Initiate data erase in five minutes. _

“No!” He yelped. This couldn’t be happening! This was his only chance to learn about the author! “Noonono! I'm gonna lose everything?! I only have one more try?!”

He blinked and suddenly everything around his was black and white. There was a shimmer in the air in front of him as Bill materialized.

“Well, well, well. Someone's looking desperate.” He flashed as he spoke and hovered around Ford.

Ford glared. “I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

Bill laughed and hovered closer. “I can help you, kid.” He lit his hand with blue fire again. “You just need to hear out my demands.”

The computer was flashing 4 MINUTES REMAINING. His heart skipped a beat. He would lose his only clue to the author.

“What crazy thing do you want anyway? To eat my soul? To rip out my teeth?”

Bill laughed and grew brighter. “Yeesh, kid, relax. All I want is a puppet!”

“A puppet?” He looked around the room. There were a dozen puppets in here alone. Was he incapable of just grabbing one? “What are you playing at?”

“Everyone loves puppets. And it looks to me that you've got a surplus.”

Ford hesitated. He could hear Stan laughing downstairs with Mabel.

“Tick tock, kid.” His eye turned into a clock as he spoke. Ford glanced at the computer and felt his breath catch in his throat. There was only thirty seconds left. How had he already lost three minutes?

Bill’s hand lit with fire.

“Just one puppet?” Bill dipped his head. Ford stuck his hand forward and closed his eyes. “Fine!” Bill’s hand encased his own. It sent sparks up his arm and down his spine. He released the cold hand. “So what puppet are you gonna pick, anyway?”

Bill hummed. “Hmm, let's see. Eenie meenie mynie...” His voice dropped and he grew larger. “YOU!” He reached into Ford’s chest and pulled. There was a painful, terrible ripping feeling where he was grabbed. His body lit with firey pain and then he was icy cold. He was torn from his body and thrown into the air. It was nothingness and empty. Terrifying. He had never realized that he was bound to a body until that moment. He had never been aware of the constriction of his form and gravity until he wasn’t tied to it. It was terrifying. There was nothing to tether him. He was loose and it felt like he had lost himself. 

“What did you do to me?!” He gasped painfully. He blinked eyes that didn’t exist and saw himself sitting on the bed. His body’s eyes blinked and looked up at him. His eyes were yellow with thin, snake like pupils. His mouth opened and Bill’s voice poured out of it.

“Sorry, kid, but you’re MY puppet now!” He jumped off the bed and grabbed the laptop. He hurled it to the floor and jumped on top of it. “AHAHAHA!”

“NO!” He surged towards it and found himself hurtling through the air. He passed right through the smashed laptop. “NO! This can’t be happening!” He grabbed at his transparent head and his hands passed through that as well.

Bill cackled. He stumbled towards the mirror and examined himself.

“Man, it has been so long since I've inhabited a body.” He brought a six fingered hand up and slapped himself across the face. Ford gasped and hovered closer. “Woo!” Bill gasped. He slapped the other cheek and laughed. “Pain is hilarious! And two eyes?” He pulled up his eyelids. “This thing’s deluxe!”

“I don’t understand!” Ford stuttered. “Why are you doing this?” He tried to grab at Bill but he just passed through him. “We had a deal!”

“Look kid, you've been getting way too close to figuring out some major answers. I've got big plans comin' and I don't need you gettin' in my way. Destroying that laptop was a cinch. Now I just need to destroy your journal. Race ya to the bottom of the stairs!” He tipped himself backwards and stumbled down the stairs. Ford shrieked and flew after him. Right through the floor.

He ended up in the living room. Stan was gathering the puppets into a box. He flew through the wall and into the kitchen.

Bill was at the fridge. He pulled it open and grabbed out a soda. He popped it open and laughed.

“A human soda!” He exclaimed. “I'm gonna drink it like a person!” He poured it into his mouth and then lifted it so it was pouring onto his face. He tossed the can aside and straightened. “Where do you keep that journal anyway?” He opened a drawer and looked around. “’It's gotta be around here somewhere.”

Ford floated nearer him. His chest felt tight with panic. He couldn’t breathe. Did he have to breathe? Could he die in this form?

“I've hidden it!” He snapped.

“Where?” Graunty Mabel passed by and waved. She didn’t seem to notice that Bill had covered Ford’s body in Cherry Pitt. 

“Well look at that. The Shooting Star. To bad she’s lost her constellation.” He took a step forward like he intended on following Mabel. 

“Come on, Ford!” Stan popped around the corner and motioned for him to follow. “We’re gonna be late.” He disappeared around the corner. A second passed and then he was looking back over. “Also, thanks for letting me borrow the trench coat. Susan needed me to use it for some random part. Don’t worry, I’ll keep the Journal safe.”

“Sure thing, Brother!” Bill called with a laugh. He locked eyes with Ford and grinned maliciously. “Well I’ve got a play to head to.”

“STANLEY!” Ford bellowed. He flew through the wall after his brother. Stanley was headed towards the front door. Soos was holding it open. “Stanley! Stop! That’s not me!”

Stanley continued walking without any sign of having heard him. What was going on?

“Heh!” Bill laughed behind him as he casually strolled outside. “Welcome to the mindscape, kid! Without a vessel to possess, you're basically a ghost!”

A vessel? What was he talking about?

“Get in the car, everyone!” Mabel called cheerily as she climbed in the driver seat. Stan took shotgun. Soos climbed in the back seat with a few of the boxes. Bill followed him. 

“You won’t get away with this!” Ford promised. Bill laughed.

“How are you going to stop me, kid, when you don’t exist?”

* * *

Stan should have been exhausted. He had no idea what was in Mabel juice but he needed to get some of that stuff for school days. He felt like he could run a couple of miles. 

The first act was over and they had a brief intermission before the second act started. He was taking the time to get some water. He wasn’t sure how Ford always wore this trench coat because he was burning up. 

“STANLEY!” He choked on the water in his mouth and jumped at least a foot in the air. He spun around indignantly.

“Sixer, whatcha doing sneaking… up…” His brother was no where to be seen. That would have been enough to make him stop talking but it wasn’t what shut him up now. There was a puppet floating a foot away from him. A sock puppet with green hair and purple googly eyes. It hadn’t made it to the final show. 

“Stanley!” The sock puppet said as it floated in front of him.

Stan punched it. He really didn’t know what else to do. 

“Stop that!” The puppet demanded. “It’s me, Ford!” 

“What?!”

“It’s me, Ford!” The puppet flailed its puppet arms. “Bill tricked me! He stole my body and now he’s trying to get the journal so he can destroy it!”

“What?” He sputtered and leaned back against the water fountain. He hadn’t seen his brother since they got out of the car. Had he talked to him then? He couldn’t remember.

“You have to make sure he doesn’t get the journal! It’s the only hope we have to get my body back!”

“I don’t understand. You said you didn’t make a deal? How did this happen?” 

The door behind them opened before puppet Ford could answer. Stan snatched the puppet and shoved it behind his back as he turned to face the door. He could feel it struggling in his grip. 

“Stop!” He hissed through his teeth as Susan stepped into the room. He plastered on a tremendously fake smile and tried not to think that his brother was a wriggling puppet right now. 

“Oh, Stanley!” She gushed. She ran towards him and took the hand he wasn’t holding Ford with in her own hands. His brain short circuited for a moment at the entirely unexpected contact. “It’s going so much better than I thought it would. Thank you so much for your help!” She released his hands and hugged him. He swayed as her warmth and perfume hit him. She smelt like apples and cinnamon. 

She pulled back and smiled at him. He felt dizzy.

“I, uh. You’re welcome.” He grinned goofily. She dropped her arms and took a tiny step back. She dropped her gaze to her shoes and scuffed them at the ground. 

“After this is finished… Do you want to grab a cup of hot chocolate at the diner?” She offered him a shy smile and he found himself nodding eagerly without any real thought.

“Absolutely!” 

The lights overhead flashed signaling they only had a few more minutes before the show started again. Susan jumped and backed up.

“Okay! Uh, see you in a few minutes.” She backed into the door and laughed nervously. She tugged it open and walked away with a little wave.

Stan released puppet Ford and turned around.

“Okay. What happened? What do I need to do?”

Ford floated up and hovered in front of him. “Get my body back.”

Right. Cause that was easy to do and obvious how to do.

* * *

Ford had thought it’d be hard to find Bill but it was anything but. The demon was wandering around behind the stage. He was going through the boxes and tossing puppets through the air. Gorney, who was apparently the stage hand, had denied him access to the stage.

“Ford!” Stan came up to Bill with a cheerful smile. Ford saw through it instantly. It was his twin’s salesman smile. The one he used to lie and trick other people into things. Bill turned to face him and plastered a disturbingly large smile on Ford’s face. Stan didn’t look fazed at all.

“Hiya Stan!” Bill replied in a too high voice. “Got my journal?”

“Of course,” he leaned forward slightly and grabbed Ford’s shoulder. It looked affectionate but Ford could see how secure the hold was. He laughed. “Well, not on me. Why? You need it?”

“Tell you what, I’ll watch after it for you. I mean, we wouldn’t want the old bag to find it, right?”

Stan’s left eye twitched. It was the only hint of his annoyance. His smile widened slightly and he nodded his head.

“Sure! Follow me.” He turned around and started walking towards the dressing rooms in the back. Bill followed him without seeming to notice Ford floating after them.

Stan held the door open so Bill could walk in. He waited another beat and then shut and locked the door.

“So where is it-“

“BILL!” Stan snarled. Ford watched as his brother straightened and took on the fighters stance. “Get out of my brother’s body!”

Bill laughed. It was a shrill, unearthly sound. His smile stretched Ford’s face too wide as he laughed and a truly insane gleam lit his eyes.

“Oh, Mackerel! Are you going to try and fight me? Why?”

Stan stepped closer with his fist raised to protect his face. There was a familiar fire in his eyes that Ford never got to see from this point of view. He was always behind Stan when it happened. He was always the reason for the fire. Always the reason Stan took hits and embraced the rage. It was somehow terrifying to watch it happen from this side. Not only because it was his body Stan was going after, but because Stan’s face should not look like that. It was nearly feral. All the usual jovialness in his brother’s face, the kindness, the innocence, it was gone.

“You hurt my brother, you over sized Dorito. I’ll fight anyone or thing who hurts him.”

“Reaaalllyyy?” Bill drew the word out and walked towards the dresser. Stan cut him off. “Careful,” Bill laughed. “Any damage to me is damage to Sixer.”

“His name is Stanford.” Stan replied. He swung his fist out and hit Ford’s body right on the upper arm. Right where he’d gotten hurt by the shape shifter. Bill jumped at the pain as his body instinctively jerked away.

“See that Bill?” Stan asked, still bouncing in place. “That there’s an instinct.” He faked a jab to the right and Bill flinched wildly. Stan smiled viciously. “You got loads of them. With what I know about Ford, I could make you dance.” He swung low and Bill flinched like there was a blow coming to his knee. Stan dropped the fist at the last second and tickled him behind the knee. Bill shouted an involuntary laugh and jumped.

Stan straightened back up. “And you wanna know something else?” His voice got quiet and deadly. Bill swung at him and Stan caught the fist in mid air. He used his grip on the six fingered hand to turn his possessed body around and twist the arm behind Bill’s back. “I’m going to enjoy getting you out of his body.” He caught the other arm and secured it with the other one. He forced Bill forward until the possessed body was pressed against the wall. “You banged his body up already. I can’t hurt it more.” He leaned in so he could look at Bill’s weird eyes. “And I don’t have to. Have you noticed how pale you are? You’ve been breathing through your mouth too. Know what that means?”

Bill gasped in a shaky breath. It did sound ragged. “You can't stop me! I'm a being of pure energy with no weakness!”

“Wrong answer.” Stan pushed him harder. “You got the cold, triangle.”

“What?” Bill’s voice was too high and too loud. He started to cough.

“Yeah.” Stan laughed viciously. “It’s a bitch. It hit hard and fast.” He shifted his grip so he had both of Bill’s hands caught up in one of his hands and wrapped his other hand around Bill’s mouth. “What’s worse? Ford hasn’t slept in three days. He hasn’t eaten properly ‘cause I’ve been sick. You also bruised him up real bad.” Bill struggled pointlessly. His eyes started to get wide. He couldn’t breathe through his congested nose.

He let go of Bill’s mouth but didn’t release his arms.

“Come on,” Bill cajoled once he was gasping for air. “We can make a deal!”

“The only thing I want is my brother. I can do this all day. I’m running on a pitcher of Mabel Juice. I won’t need sleep for a week.”

Bill was beginning to slump. “My body is burning-“ he gasped. “I can't move these stupid noodle arms! Curse you, useless flesh sticks! Body...shutting down…” He fell against the wall unconscious. Bill sprang up and out of the body. Ford surged forward and reclaimed it.

Every inch of his body hurt. He couldn’t breathe, his shoulders were on fire, he could feel his arm bleeding again, and his eyes were watering and getting caught in his glasses.

“Stan,” he yelped, “I’m back!”

“Look at me.” It was an order that Ford didn’t feel like disobeying. “The eyes look right.” He muttered.

“This isn't the last you'll hear of me!” Both boys jumped. Stan released Ford and spun around, raising his fists up. The puppet Ford had been using earlier was floating towards them. “Big things are coming! You can't stop me!”

Stan grabbed the puppet and tore it in half.

* * *

Ford was sprawled out on the couch with two blankets and a mug of tea. Stanley was sitting on the floor in front of him with a bowl of peanuts. They were watching a ducktective rerun. Every inch of Ford hurt. He’d zoned out a little while they were traveling home.

“Wait?” He said suddenly. Stan looked up at him. “Why are you here?” Stan was supposed to be with Susan at the diner. He’d forgotten about it.

“’Cause we’re staying here?”

“No.” He struggled to sit up but it was too much effort. He flopped back and tried not to moan. “Susan? You were supposed to-“ he cut himself off with a yawn.

“Don’t worry, Sixer. I got a rain check.” He shrugged and turned back to the tv. “You hung with me while I was sick. I’ll return the favor.”

Mabel burst into the room before he could say anything else. She had a tray of soup and sandwiches.

“Okay, boys, let’s get this marathon started!” She passed a mug of soup to Ford. He took it and sighed contentedly as the mug warmed his hands. Stan grabbed one of the cheese sandwiches and tore it in half. Mabel settled on the end of the couch Ford wasn’t in. Waddles joined Stan on the floor and tried to steal his sandwich.

The soup was warm. He couldn’t taste anything so he couldn’t really tell what it was. He set the mug down when he was finished and Waddles went to town on licking it up. He was nearly nodding off but it scared him.

What if Bill came back?

“I gotcha, Sixer.” Stan said cheerily. Ford blinked and felt his head lull. “Don’t worry. Nothing’ll happen while you sleep.” His twin was looking at him with a cheerful smile and determined eyes.

He meant to reply. He was thinking of what to say when he finally fell asleep.


	16. Society of the Blind Eye: Unsee you later!

_ NoTE to self: PoSsESSinG pEOple is hIlaRIOuS: TO THiNk of ALl The sEnSaTIONS i've bEen Missing oUT ON-BurniNG, StaBbInG, drOwNiNg. iT'S lIkE a buFfET TrAY of FUN! OncE i DEStROy ThAt jOurnAl, I'Ll enjoY GivInG ThIS BoDy iTs GRAnd FinALe-BY thRowinG iT OFf THe wATEr towER! BEst of AlL, PeoPlE Will JUsT thINk SIxer lOST HIS miND, aND His MeNtAl FOrM WILl waNDEr in tHE minDsCaPe ForeVER. WAnT To JOIn hiM, macKerel? _

Stan had read the letter dozens of times in the last few days. He hadn’t been able to stop reading it. He’d crumpled it up and thrown it in the trash when he’d found it in his bed. He’d then promptly fetched it back. He couldn’t risk Ford finding it. 

That demon had wanted to kill his brother and make it look like a suicide.

He hadn’t been able to think about anything else. Ford had recovered from the cold and was ready to continue their hunt for the author.

Stan wanted to burn the journal and everything related to it. He didn’t know who this demon was or why it had any affiliation with the Author but he wanted it gone. Forever. He wanted to get his brother away from all of this. He wanted none of this to have ever happened.

He wanted to take Mabel away as well. Soos, Wendy, Susan, Fiddleford, Candy… heck, he’d take the whole town away from here. He wasn’t going to let that demonic triangle get his brother or anyone else if he could help it.

“Come on, Gumball.” Mabel lightly bumped him with her shoulder. She was in her ‘Miss Mystery’ outfit and even had the cane. She’d put a glowing star in the top that would flash different colors when she tapped it. It was one of Fiddleford’s inventions. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothin’, Graunty Mabel.” He put on his showman smile. Mabel raised a thin, gray, eyebrow and frowned.

“Quit your lying.” She bumped him again. “You’ve been down since the puppet show. I thought it was Ford but he’s gotten over the cold. Good job sneaking him the medicine. He’d never have slept without it.”

“Sixer’s bad at taking care of himself. He forgets to eat, sleep, and drink.”

“He’s lucky you look after him.” She turned to fully face him and caught his eye. “But that’s changing the topic. What’s up, Stanley?”

“It’s… it’s almost August.” That was as close as he could get to the real trouble. There were so many troubles. Too many to count. 

Understanding filled Mabel’s eyes. All traces of a smile were gone. The well of sadness inside her seemed to fill up again. She grabbed him in a hug and squeezed tight. Stanley was pretty sure he had never been hugged so much in his life as he had in these last two months. Thankfully, Mabel gave good hugs. She held tight and secure so you knew it was real and that you were safe. She was warm but not suffocating. She also never let go first. You got to hug as long as you wanted. They were the closest thing to his ma’s hug he’d ever felt. Ma’s were special because they were her hugs… but Mabel’s were warmer. Probably because Ma was always cold. She’d torture them with her hands. He’d spent many a morning running and laughing as she chased him with her wiggling fingers. 

He missed his Ma a lot but… He closed his eyes and grit his teeth. He shoved all the swirling emotions down and away. He released his hold on Mabel and she let him go after another beat. 

There were tears in her brown eyes. Great. Just another thing to add to the list of reasons today sucked.

“I love you, Gumball.” She chucked his chin and straightened. “You’re always welcome here. Anytime. I’ll find away to have you two over more often. You get holidays off, right?”

He nodded his head. It didn’t matter. Pa wouldn’t pay for the trip. The only reason they’d been allowed this time was because Mabel had put up the entire cost. He didn’t want her to have to do that again. Maybe he could earn some money. Tickets couldn’t be too expensive, right?

“Come on,” She tugged the sleeve of his shirt, “let’s go get these people’s money.” She waited until he nodded to walk away. He followed and tried to look a little more cheerful.

“Fiddsy,” Wendy was at the cash register as always. She exhaled noisily and rolled her neck. “Come on, man, how could you forget?”

Fiddleford was repairing one of the shelves. He was also working hard to avoid all eye contact. Stanley was gifted at avoiding eye contact and could spot it when others were trying. Also, Ford wasn’t in the room.

“Forget?” Mabel inserted herself in the conversation with a smile. She joined Wendy at the counter. Stan walked through the room to the back door. He pushed it open and didn’t see Ford in the Employee only room either. 

“Just a little thing, Miss Pines.” Fiddleford said dismissively. “Wendy was askin’ me if I remembered Robbie’s solo.”

“When you broke up with him?” Mabel laughed a little. Wendy rolled her eyes.

“Yes. God. He’s so lame.” 

Stan stopped. “You forgot?” That hadn’t been something… forgettable. That had been the night before they lost the shack. Before Mabel’s mind had been attacked by that demon and they’d all been made homeless. All of that aside, it was hard not to remember. Robbie had set up a speaker on the porch of the Mystery Shack and proceeded to play a ‘song’ for Wendy. Calling it a song had felt mean to actual songs. Mabel’s had sent Waddles and Gompers after him while they all hid out in the Living Room. They’d turned up Ducktective and had ice cream sundaes while they waited for him to go away. Wendy and Fiddleford had been hanging out and ended up staying really late. It had been a lot of fun. 

And it wasn’t something they were likely to forget. Fiddleford had even tweaked the tv so it could get channels from the next state. (They also had crappy local channels.)

Fiddleford shrugged. He looked awkward and very uncomfortable. He was holding himself like Ford did when he was worried about something. 

“I just don’t remember the one thing.”

Mabel interrupted. “But it’s not the one thing, Fiddsy.” She pushed off the counter and went up to the teenager. Stan was torn between wanting to know what was going on and the need to find his brother. “You’ve been forgetting a lot of things.” She put her hand to his forehead as though she were checking for a fever. “Did you get knocked around during Gideon’s reign of terror?” 

“Not that I remember.” He smiled as he spoke but the joke was entirely lost on Mabel. Her brow furrowed and she brought her hands to his cheek. She tilted his head and looked into his eyes with concern. 

“Have you had trouble remembering other things recently? Any nausea? Dizziness? Any headaches?”

“I didn’t get a concussion.” 

“How would you know?” Wendy asked with a bored tone. Stan didn’t buy it. He could see the concern in her eyes. She was anxious. She was killer at acting chill but her eyes were a give away. He’d found that out when they were trapped in the stupid bunker with scrap metal as lock picks.

Heh. What a weird, fantastic, summer this had been. 

Fiddleford opened his mouth to retort before clicking it shut again. She had a good point and apparently he could acknowledge that.

“GRAUNTY!” Ford dashed into the Gift shop with a pant and yelp. He was a sweaty mess and still had his bike helmet on his head. He fiddled with it but couldn’t seem to get it to unsnap. His hand was shaking. Stan’s stomach dropped. 

“What is it?” Mabel released Fiddleford and gave Ford her full attention. 

“Someone just took Susan!”

“What?!” Mabel ran for the door Ford had just come through.

“Not here.” Ford struggled to get the words out around his need for air. “In the woods.” 

Mabel rounded on him. Stan finally reached him and grabbed his brother’s arm. He didn’t look injured. 

“Why were you in the woods?” She shook her head before Ford could reply. “Never mind. That’s so not important right now.” She grabbed her car keys off the wall and her wallet. “Where and who?”

“I-I don’t know! They were in robes. I couldn’t see their faces!”

“Robes?” Fiddleford murmured. No one but Stan seemed to hear him. 

“Can you show me where it happened?”

“Yes.” Ford swallowed and started towards the door. He dragged Stan, who couldn’t seem to let go of his arm, with him. They rushed out the door – Fiddleford locked the door. Funnily enough he was the only one that remembered to do so. They all piled into Mabel’s bug. Mabel, Ford, and Stan sat up front while the two teens climbed into the back seat.

“That way.” Ford pointed towards the forest on the town side of the yard. Mabel took off towards it.

“What did these people look like?” Fiddleford asked from the back seat. He caught hold of Mabel’s head rest to steady himself and leaned forward.

“I couldn’t see them. They were wearing red robes with hoods. They had huge black eyes on the back that had been crossed out.”

“An eye?” Fiddleford slunk back in the seat. He looked confused and a little pained.

“What?” Wendy demanded as Mabel took a sharp turn to where Ford was pointing. “Does that mean something to you? You seen any weirdos in the woods with robes?”

“I… I think so?” He grabbed his head as Mabel made another turn. “I can’t remember!”

Ford signaled for Mabel to stop. There was a basket about twenty feet away from them. It had Greasy’s Diner’s logo on it. Mabel put the car in park while everyone else climbed out of the vehicle. Stan went to the basket and picked it up. There was a cherry pie inside with a bottle of lemonade. There was a dvd at the bottom of the puppet shows. He’d missed the ending and the next show. She’d told him she’d get a copy of it and show it to him.

Had she been coming to see them?

“I was looking for Gnomes.” Ford explained. He put a hand on Stan’s shoulder and peered into the basket. “They… didn’t see me. I saw her walking towards the shack. She was probably taking the shortcut. The… the gnomes. She, uh, saw them. She screamed. I was coming to help but… Those people were here first. They grabbed her before I could reach her.”

The rest of the group reached them.

“Where did they go?” Wendy asked.

Ford looked to the left. “Back towards town.” His mouth popped open in shock. Stan looked where he was gazing and frowned in confusion. There was a crossed out eye spray painted on a tree.

Fiddleford choked on a breath and stepped back. His hand rose to his mouth and his face scrunched with fear.

“Fiddsy?” Mabel asked. She raised a hand towards him.

“The museum.” He gasped. “I know that. It’s the museum!”

“Museum?” Wendy said out loud.

“Fiddsy, you sure?” Mabel had her hands extended towards him hesitantly. He nodded. “Then that’s where we’re going. Get in the car.”

* * *

It was eerily quiet. Not that Stan had spent a whole lot of time at the Museum. Or any time for that matter. Still, it was quiet. The doors were unlocked but there wasn’t anyone around. 

They wandered into the main exhibits quietly. No one said anything but they were all unwilling to break the heavy silence.

“Hey!” Mabel shouted suddenly and loudly. She pointed down an adjacent hallway where a figure was running away. Stan didn’t have time to make anything other than that it was tall and red.

“Who’s there?” Ford called. He darted down the hallway with everyone else following. It led to a large room covered in eyes. The walls, the exhibits, the floor, even the ceiling had eye balls. They were in different styles but they were everywhere. It gave Stan the willies the minute he crossed into the room. The only thing that didn’t have an eyeball was the fireplace with a roaring fire. And the grate on the fireplace had an eyeball on it. 

“Where did he go?” Ford asked with a small voice. 

“Well kettle my corn,” Fiddleford muttered. “He’s gone.”

“Yeah, but where?” Wendy motioned to the room at large. “It’s not like there’s a lot of options here. That was the only exit.”

“Does anyone else feel like these eyeballs are a-watchin’ them?” Fiddleford asked with a step back. Stan shuddered and nodded his head. He’d been feeling the same thing but hadn’t wanted to say anything. It was terrible. Ford’s eyes jumped around the room in study of the eyeballs. He frowned.

“They are.” He walked towards them and stepped around them. Stan turned to see what his twin was looking at and saw a single eyeball that looked different than all the others. It was outlined with stone and looked completely separate from the wall. Ford went straight to the out of place eye and pressed it. The wall to their right where the fireplace was shuddered. A moment later the back of the fireplace dropped and a staircase appeared.

“A secret passageway!” Ford squeaked. Stan didn’t even have to look to know his twin was grinning. He even had to admit, this was kind of cool.

The minute they all got into the staircase they could hear the chanting.

_ Novus ordo seclorum  _

There were numerous voices chanting the strange words and it made Stan shudder. Chanting at any time for any reason was creepy. Always. Chanting in weird languages in secret places? That was horror movie material.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and found a curtain had been hung in the doorway. Mabel parted it just enough for them to peak through. It was a big room with stone floor. There were robed men forming a semi circle. Their backs were to the curtain so they couldn’t see any faces. There was a chair set up in front of them. The robed people were the ones chanting. 

_ Novus ordo seclorum  _

“New order of the ages.” Ford supplied. There was an excited grin on his face that he couldn’t hide. Stan felt a surge of annoyance and adoration swell up in his gut. His dork of a brother would just love this. The nerd was watching an actual secret society unfold in front of his eyes. He lived for this type of thing. 

“What’s going on?” The words were dragged out with confusion and Stan, who was staring at his brother, saw Ford’s smile drop. His own body felt cold before a flash of angry heat flared out from his stomach to consume his body. He jerked his head to the right to see what was going on and saw the robed men were dragging a girl out. She had a sack over her head but there was no mistaking Susan’s uniform.

“Susan!” He gasped. He started to rise and probably would have lunged after her. Wendy and Mabel both caught him. Mabel got his arm while Wendy got his shoulder. They held him down while Susan was strapped into a chair.

“Hold on,” Wendy hissed. “There’s too many of them to just attack hot headed.”

The tallest robed person stepped forward. “Who is the subject of our meeting?” He had an accent Stan couldn’t place. He didn’t recognize the voice at all.

One of the people who had dragged Susan in answered. “This woman.” He tugged the sack up to reveal Susan’s face. 

The tall man spoke again. “ What is it you have seen?”

Every other robed figure spoke at once. “Speak!”

Susan blinked up at the bright light and the people surrounding her. She looked scared. “Uh, well, uh, I.” She swallowed thickly.

“Speak!” The tall man ordered again. Susan jumped a little. Wendy’s grip tightened on his shoulder. 

“I was heading towards the Mystery Shack, and I saw these little bearded doodads, and I was, like, "Bwaaa?"

The tall man turned from Susan and opened a chest on a pedestal. He pulled out a futuristic looking gun while all the other men pulled their hoods entirely over their heads. 

“There, there,” He murmured as he turned back towards Susan. “You won't be like "Bwaaa?" for much longer.”

Susan pressed back in her seat as he approached. “What is that gizmo?”

Stan tore himself free of Wendy’s hold - Mabel’s had loosened to nothing - and stood up. He heard Ford say something but he didn’t care. 

“It looks like a hair dryer.” Susan continued as Stan ducked out from behind the curtain. “Are you guys barbers?” The lead man leveled the gun at her head. Stan dove for the man and collided with him right as he fired the gun. A beam of blue light shot out of it. The light blasted off the edge of the chair and up into the ceiling.

“GAH!” The lead man screeched as he crashed to the ground. Stan sprang back up and stumbled towards Susan. Susan who’s blue eyes were wide and terrified. His hands fell to the straps holding Susan in.

“Get him!” The lead man ordered. The other robed figures started to move towards him. His fingers fumbled with the strap and he couldn’t get it to go through the little metal clasp. They looked like the straps that held the monster in Frankenstein. What kind of cheesy horror flick had they stumbled into?

“GLITTER BOMB!” Mabel shrieked at the top of her lungs. An explosion of pink smoke and glitter boomed behind him. Ford appeared at his side and started on the other strap.

“Stanley?” Susan stuttered. Stan flashed her a cheeky grin and got the strap through the metal bar. He unfolded the rest of the leather and let her arm go free. 

“Get back!” Wendy warned. There was a sound like skin against skin followed by a pained grunt. “I warned you!” She added. Ford got his own strap free and they both helped Susan out of the chair.

“Please, what’s going on?” Susan asked rather politely. Stan would have laughed if they weren’t currently in the middle of some stone room with a cult of weirdos. 

“No idea.” Stan supplied. He turned to see what was happening behind him only to be grabbed by an out of breath Mabel.

“Exit stage left! Or right! Just get out!” She shoved him towards the door at the other end of the room. He obliged and took Susan’s hand. He’d be excited about that later. 

They ran down the stone hallway, all six of them, with thundering footsteps. It led to another hallway with three choices. They chose the left option and ran down it. Another left and two rights led to another hall that was full of the type of tubes you’d see at banks. There were easily two dozen of them on the ceiling. They disappeared into the walls and down other halls. In the middle of the room all the different tubes met and pointed to the floor. Hundreds of metal tubes littered the floor. A few dozen had been put into stacks around the room but most were just left in a pile in the middle of the room. 

“What are they?” Ford asked. He went up to the nearest one, heedless of the fact that they were being followed, and grabbed it. “They look like the thing that was on the back of the gun.” He looked at whatever was on it. “Hey! Soos’ name is on this!”

“What?” Mabel demanded hotly. She snatched it from Ford’s hand and brought it close to her face. “This is dated on your birthday. What is this?”

“Fiddsy?” Wendy’s voice was tentative and it was at that point that Stan realized the inventor was crouched with his hands on his head. He was gasping for air and looked like he was in pain. “You okay?”

Stan didn’t think he’d ever seen Fiddleford ever look less okay. Mabel stuffed the tube in her pocket and shuffled over towards him. She put a hand on his shoulder and knelt towards him. She whispered something to him and Fiddleford shook his head. Susan took a step towards him and Stan realized he was still holding her hand. He released it with a sheepish smile. 

“Stan?” He turned to see his twin passing a tube towards him. It had Mabel’s name on it. He blinked down at it in confusion. It was dated for 2010. He had a second tube with Fiddleford’s name on it. There wasn’t a date.

He took the one with Mabel’s name and stuffed it in his pocket. Ford gave him a concerned look. He shook his head to let him know they’d talk about it later. He didn’t know what it was about but he didn’t like that these loons had it. He didn’t like any of this. 

“You’ve been here? When?” Wendy suddenly said too loudly. Fiddleford shook his head in answer to her question. 

“I can’t remember! But… It has something to do with that. Remembering.”

“HALT!” A voice Stan vaguely recognized shouted down the hallway they’d run down. “Who is in there?”

“Oh no,” Ford gasped. He took a step back and stepped on a tube. He picked it up. 

“Run!” Mabel shouted. She grabbed Fiddleford’s arm and shoved him towards the hallway they were closest. “Split up, everyone, meet back at the bug!”

Stan grabbed Ford’s hand in his and bolted down the hallway closest to him. Susan darted down a third with Wendy hot on her heels.

“I can’t see anything!” Ford panted next to him. 

“So get your flashlight!” He hissed back. There was a swoosh of fabric and then Ford’s light was clicking on. It lit up a wall that they barely managed not to collide into.

“No, no, no, no!” Stan banged his fist against the dead end before whirling back to face the direction they’d just run down. He could see shadowy figures moving towards them. He released Ford’s hand and moved to stand in front of him. He adopted the fighters stance and inhaled. The first robed figure reached them and he swung out. He connected with the chubby man’s waist and heard him release a shocked breath.

Ford clocked the second one with the butt of his flashlight. 

Two more robed men joined. Stan swung with abandon. He wasn’t going down without a fight.

* * *

“This is dumb.” Stan declared with a put out huff. “This is all dumb. I get that you guys have a theme, but you’re goin’ crazy.”

The men had been chanting: “it will be unseen” and had been chanting for at least five minutes now. Ford was getting bugged by it. He couldn’t imagine how annoyed his brother was. He hated repetitive noises. 

A few of the robed men had bound Stan and Ford to a large column. Wendy and Susan were brought in a few moments later and tied to them as well. 

He was on the end next to Stan. Stan was next to Wendy and Susan was on her other side. The men had formed a semi-circle around them while they chanted. They paused after Stan’s complaint.

“You shouldn’t have come here.” The tallest robed man, who seemed to be their leader, said. “We do not give up our secrets lightly. 

“Who are you bathrobe-wearing freaks?” Wendy demanded. 

“And what’s with the lame accent?” Stan added. Ford would have smiled at a different time.

The man shrugged. “Well, I suppose we are going to erase your minds anyway.” The men started to lower their hoods. 

Ford was horrified by just how many of the men he recognized. Tate McGucket, Toby Determined, Gideon Gleeful, Farmer Sprott, Woodpecker Boy, Tats… So many familiar faces. He’d walked past these people on a daily basis. He’d considered Tate a friend. These people came to the shack, they ate at the diner. 

He didn’t understand it. He didn’t get it at all. 

“And you've never met me before. And if you had, you wouldn't remember.” The head man removed his hood. The man beneath was extremely pale without any facial hair. He didn’t even have eyebrows. Instead his head was covered with tattoos. They looked like they had been based off some sort of phrenology. He had a vivid red criss cross scar on his right eye.

“I am Blind Ivan,” the man declared, “and we are The Society of the Blind Eye. Formed in secret by a creative genius… As you have no doubt discovered, Gravity Falls is a town plagued with supernatural strangeness. No one knew how to stop the things that went bump in the night, so our genius invented the next best thing: a way for us to forget. We took it upon ourselves to help the troubled townsfolk by erasing the memories of the strange things they've seen. Now the people of Gravity Falls go about their lives ignorant and happy, thanks to us. And as a perk, we help ourselves forget things that trouble us. Everyone has something they'd rather forget.”

“But, we don’t want to forget.” Stanley stated as though it were obvious. “If you’re so noble then you should care about what the people want.” He paused. Ford couldn’t see him from his position and the need to see his brother was intense. He needed to know he was okay. He needed to hold on. Something terrible was about to happen even if he hadn’t quite pieced it together yet. 

“Tate?” Stan continued after a moment. “I thought…”

Tate looked away from them.

Blind Ivan huffed. “Our secrets are our own. The fools in this town have no idea what they wish.” He shook his head. “No. You won't be telling anyone else what you've learned here. Say good-bye to your summer.” He dialed something into the gun.

“The entire summer?” Tate demanded. “Why not just remove the society?”

Ivan rounded on the man with a wild glare. “Do not question me!” He shouted.

“I’m so sorry!” Ford stuttered. His chest was hammering and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. There were so many things he wanted to say but there wasn’t any time. What would it make him forget? Everything? The Journal? The wonders he’d seen? What about Fiddleford and Wendy? What about Graunty Mabel?

How much were they going to take? What about Stan? That was unfathomable. They couldn’t take that away, surely? There couldn’t be anything that’d make him forget Stan. What if Stan forgot him? 

“If we’re gonna forget everything, then I have some things I want to say!” Stan declared. His voice was loud and almost shrill. “Wendy, I stole a dollar that day. Susan, I have no idea what a mulberry is but I still love the pie. Ford, I love you!”

“Okay, I’m not actually laid back. I’m stressed like, 24/7. Have you met my family?” Wendy practically babbled the words.

“I never told my dad I hung with you on Summerween! He thought I was hanging at Gorney’s!” Susan cried out. 

Ford found himself speaking as well. “I’m failing PE! I make Stan take my classes so I can pass! I love you, Stanley!”

Blind Ivan aimed the gun at them. “Oh, stop being a bunch of babies.” He smirked as though he was truly enjoying this. He brought his hand to the trigger and they were all mumbling incoherently. He heard Wendy say she loved them and Stan was telling them that he’d never forget them no matter what. Susan was sobbing that she’d be brave and find them and Ford had no idea what was pouring out of his mouth-

Someone shoved Ivan from behind. Blind Ivan stumbled forward and dropped the gun. There was a battle cry from the other side of the room and a loud ‘clang’ as a banjo went flying through the air and hit Ivan in the chest. Graunty Mabel rushed forward with a wheelbarrow full of random items. There were pickaxes, brooms, a stuffed raccoon, and a few metal posters. Fiddleford straightened up from where he’d been standing behind Ivan and shoved his stolen robe off. Mabel took a defensive position in front of them while Fiddleford ran to them. He grabbed a swiss army knife out of his pocket and cut the rope binding them.

“We gotta get outta here.” He stated while he sawed at the rope.

“No duh!” Stan said. He shrugged the rope off himself and jumped towards Mabel. Wendy joined him a moment later. Susan was next. Ford was finally free and Fiddleford was helping him stand. 

“They cannot escape!” Ivan shouted. “They cannot take the memories or our secrets!”

Ford grabbed the weapon nearest him and swung it at the nearest Society member. Toby jumped and tried to scramble away but Ford managed to clock him in the chest. He brought the broom back around and hit the back of Toby’s head with it. The strange looking man fell to the ground. He doubted a concussion would do much more damage to Toby.

He scanned the room to see where everyone else was. Wendy was fighting with Tats and was doing an impressive job holding her own against the burly man. Sprott was standing by a broken tube in nothing but his underwear and shoes. Susan was fighting the woodpecker man. Stan and Mabel were both battling Gideon. 

He saw what was going to happen a second before it happened. Gideon’s arm was moving faster than Stan’s. There was a sickening thud and then his brother was flying through the air and into the wall. Mabel shrieked and brought her racoon down on his arm. It was too slow. Gideo’s other hand got a hold of her and brought her close to his face. He dropped a kiss to her forehead before throwing her after Stanley.

Stanley who had not gotten back up. Stanley who was slumped over on his side. Stanley who’s eyes were closed. Stanley who’s head was bleeding.

Fiddleford dashed towards them while Ford remained rooted to the ground. 

“ENOUGH!” Ivan bellowed the words as he rose to his feet. He aimed the gun at Fiddleford’s head with a fiery hate in his eyes. “The Society's secrets belong to us!” He snarled and moved closer. “End of the line.” He inhaled loudly and seemed to gain some control of his rage. “By tomorrow, this will all seem like a bad dream. Say goodbye to your precious memories.”

Fiddleford stood taller and squared his shoulder. He met the man’s gaze unflinchingly. “I’m not afraid. I’ll happily take a hit for them. They deserve to remember!”

“Leave him alone- he’s already suffered enough!” Tate’s voice rang in the hall and shook with finality. 

Already? What had they done to him? What had these monsters done to everyone?

“I AM IN CHARGE! MY WORD IS LAW!” Ivan shrieked.

“That’s my son!” Tate dove in front of Fiddleford as the trigger was pulled. The beam of light hit him squarely in the face and he slunk to the floor. Fiddleford looked down at him in horror. 

“Your turn, boy!” The gun was raised again. Ford charged forward with the broom. 

Wendy hit Ivan in the back of the head with a banjo. Ivan crumpled to the floor. Ford grabbed the gun up and pointed it at Gideon. The large man raised his hands defensively.

“Back!” he snarled in a ragged voice. “All of you! Get BACK!” They did what he said. Without hesitation, every one of the still standing members listened to him. “Wendy, bring Ivan to them as well.” 

Mabel was standing up with Stan in her arms. The sight made something cold and angry run through his veins. He turned his eyes back on the men who had tried to erase their memories and glared. He looked at the memory gun screen and saw the word ‘Summer’ there. He twisted the knob on the side and started to type out ‘SOCIETY OF THE BLIND EYE.’ 

Fiddleford was crouched next to his father and murmuring something to him. 

Ford leveled the gun at the men and pulled the trigger.

* * *

Stanley definitely had a concussion. He was rather proud of it. Mabel had scrubbed the spot on her forehead raw, and they were now all sitting in a pile on the couch in the Mystery Shack. Tate was asleep in the recliner. He had no real idea who Ford or Stan were.

The men hadn’t been lying. They’d erased the entire summer from his head. He’d forgotten them. He’d forgotten everything that had happened this summer. 

Fiddleford had been quiet. He was holding his memory tube in his hands. They’d stolen the viewing machine from the society hall and had it set up in the living room. He was sitting with it in the floor in front of the couch. Wendy, Ford, Mabel, and Stan were on the couch. They’d returned Susan home and agreed to watch the puppet show tomorrow. 

Fiddleford shoved the memory into the machine with sudden force. The screen lit up to show Fiddleford in what looked like a bedroom. He was younger than he currently looked. Maybe thirteen or fourteen instead of his current sixteen year old self. There was a Tesla poster on the wall of the room he was in. There was also a shelf of machine parts. Fiddleford was staring right at them with a worried frown.

“I suppose this should start with my name. That’s how most test run, right? A name and a reason? Well my name is Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, and I wish to unsee what I have seen.”

Everyone in the room gasped. It would have been comical in a different setting.

“It’s been two years since we moved to the strange town of Gravity Falls. It has been peculiar since we arrived. Creatures exist here that you only find in fairy tales. That…” The Fiddleford on the screen swallowed thickly. “Includes monsters. I’ve… I’ve seen things. Terrible things. I lie awake at night, haunted by the thoughts of what’s out there. I believe I have invented a machine that can permanently erase these memories from my mind.” The memory Fiddleford held up the memory erasing gun. Ford felt his mouth drop open and heard Mabel give a pained gasp. She had her arm around Stan and he watched the other one reach for Fiddleford. 

Memory Fiddleford held the gun to his head. “Test subject One: Fiddleford.” He shot himself with the light and the screen turned to static. A second later it returned to a shot of Fiddleford. “It worked! I can't recall a thing.”

The memory fizzled again to show a slightly older Fiddleford. The parts on the shelf had changed out. There was a partly made robot. 

“I saw something gigantic come out of the woods at Miss Pines shop today. It tried to steal her car. It was very disturbing.” He shuddered. “I would like to forget it.” He held the gun up to his head and shot again. 

Static and another scene. “I forgot Wendy’s name today. It was only for a moment but…” He looked at the gun in his hands. There was the sound of a door opening followed by Tate’s voice. Static again.

An older Fiddleford was in front of them. One that looked the same age as their Fiddleford. Only now they weren’t in the same room. They were in the hall where the society members had tried to erase Susan’s memory. Fiddleford was tied to a chair and looked terrified.

“What is it you have seen, Fiddleford McGucket?

“Bud Gleeful…” He mumbled with a shudder. 

“We know what it was.” Tate’s voice echoed from somewhere off screen. “Don’t torture him. Just rid him of the memory of it.”

“What?” Fiddleford gasped. Blind Ivan lowered the gun and shot him. Static and a scene change. They were in the Shack, but not their Shack. It was the Shack when Bud had it. The little twerp was standing with his left hand on his hip and his right hand holding the second journal. Ford felt his mouth drop open.

Bud had a Journal? What had happened to it? 

The question was promptly driven out of his mind as Fiddleford was shoved forward by Gideon Gleeful. 

“Here he is.” 

Bud beamed. “Thank you, grandpa!” He directed his attention to Fiddleford who scowled up at him. “I have a proposition for you. I have need of a robot and will be willing to pay you quite handsom-”

Fiddleford spit at him. Bud reared back in shock. 

“I ain’t gonna help you! You thumpin’ gizzard!” 

“Then other methods can be arranged!” Bud lifted the book and began to read from it. “Ykoops live lleps. Ykoops live lleps!” He repeated the chant and his eyes began to glow with a blue fire far too similar to Bill for Ford’s comfort. His breath hitched and he began to shake as Fiddleford screamed. His eyes were lit with blue fire as well before the screen flashed again. 

The flashes came quicker. They caught glimpses of him building the Bud Bot. Glimpses of the terrible shape shifter in the bunker, and finally a flash of the Gremoblin with red, glowing eyes.

The screen went black and the room was utterly silent except for the sound of breathing.

“It was my fault.” Fiddleford stammered. Mabel moved quicker than Ford had ever seen her move. She sprang from the couch and pulled Fiddleford into a tight embrace. He shuddered on a sob.

“Don’t you dare say that! Not for an instant!” 

“Fiddleford?” Tate was sitting up in the chair and blinking. He looked sleepy and confused. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Get your rear over here this instant!” Mabel snapped. Tate struggled out of the chair, gave Ford and Stan a confused look, and went to his son. Mabel pulled him into the hug. 

“Tate McGucket, I will be  _ furious  _ with you later. Right now, your son needs your support. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you found his little invention.”

“It… It was supposed to be… It was supposed to help people like him. People who saw the terrible side of…”

Mabel shook her head. “I get that, Tate. Why do you think I haven’t kicked your butt yet?”

The memory in his pocket suddenly felt heavy. What had they stolen from Mabel? What terrible thing had they tried to make her forget?

Had he had any run ins with these people? Would he even remember if he had? Had Stanley?

He felt Stanley’s hand grab his own. It was a tight, painful grip. He looked up to see a terrified expression his brother’s face. What gave?

“Bud.” Stan finally managed in little more than a whisper. Ford strained his ears to hear. “He  _ controlled him _ . What if…” 

Ford squeezed the hand back. “He didn’t.”

Wendy slipped off the couch and tugged on their arms. “Come on.” They followed her out of the room. “We’re going to set out some ice cream. They’re going to want to eat their sorrows away after this.” 

Ford kind of wanted to do the same thing. Today had royally sucked. 

He’d never considered the effect the crazy parts of this town might have on other people of this town. Some of it was scary, of course, things like the zombies, the dinosaurs, the summerween trickster… But most of it was incredible. It was insane and shouldn’t exist but, then neither should he. Anomalies were just that, something different. Something out of the ordinary and unique and impossible. Something he loved. Something he was.

This incredible town, it was meant for people like him. He was a freak, he belonged with the freak that this town was. He had never considered the effect it might have on people who were… normal. 

Stan still had his hand. His five fingers laced perfectly between Ford’s six. He was an anomaly yes, but perhaps this town wasn’t the only thing he fit. 

At least Stanley fit it as well.


	17. Northwest Mansion Mystery: I feel lumber justice

“That looks like barf.” Stan stated decidedly as the Northwest Party news coverage died out. Susan was sitting next to him and looked deeply offended by what he’d just said.

“It’s the best party of all time!” She declared. 

Stan frowned. “Says who?”

“Everyone.” Mabel said from the doorway. She had a tray of snacks and drinks. “Weren’t you going to watch a ghost hunter marathon?”

“We still are.” Ford assured her. “We just have to wait for this commercial to go away.”

“So whatcha sayin’ is you want to go?” Stan demanded. Susan rolled her eyes. “Even though Preston is the worst?”

“I’d say Priscilla holds that title, but yeah.”

“I’ve always wanted to go.” Mabel said. She set the tray down and sighed dramatically. “Grenda says each gift basket has a live quail inside!” She blew out a noisy breath. “I’ve always wanted to go with her but her plus one is the baron. Or. She’s his plus one.” She waved her hand like it wasn’t important. “Whatever.”

“Stan has a point though.” Ford said in an attempt to get the conversation back on topic. “They are the worst.” Mabel gave him a skeptical look. He didn’t particularly care if she agreed or not. Preston had belittled them on several occasions. He didn’t have to like people who acted like that. There were too many people who got away with being Crampelters. They shouldn’t be encouraged in their ignorance and malice. “And that’s not jealousy talking.” He continued. “ I’d say that to his face.” 

There was a loud knock on the front door. Ford was nearest so he got up to answer it. Mabel was still frowning like she wanted to say something. He pulled the door open to see Preston Northwest standing in front of him. He had a suit on with a long black coat covering it. He had a large fedora pulled low to cover his head and glasses obscuring what wasn’t hidden of his face.

Ford, in his utter shock, spoke his gut reaction. “You’re the worst.” Mildly horrified that he’d actually said that, and  _ really _ not wanting to think of a way of making that less awkward, he shut the door.

Susan and Mabel gasped in the other room. Stan laughed. Loudly.

Preston knocked again. Ford waited a moment and then opened the door again. He couldn’t do much else. 

“Look,” Preston growled, “You think it’s easy for me to come here? I don’t want to be seen in this hovel! But there’s something  _ haunting _ Northwest Manor.” He took his sunglasses off and Ford was shocked at the bags he saw under the rich boy’s eyes. “If you don’t help,” he said pleadingly, “the party could be ruined!” He spoke as if it was the worst thing imaginable.

Ford frowned. Something wasn’t adding up. “Why should I trust you? Or help you?” He crossed his arms defensively. “You’ve only ever tried to insult and humiliate Stan and me.”

Preston sighed heavily and pulled a leather wallet from his coat pocket. “Just name your price.” He met Ford’s eyes. He had blue eyes. “I’ll give you anything.”

“What?!” Ford sputtered indignantly. “You can’t  _ buy _ my aid!” 

Preston raised an eyebrow and let his eyes rake over Ford. He suddenly felt a little self-conscious. He was wearing an old shirt, and his jeans had a few holes, and his shoes weren’t in particularly good repair but- that was no reason for this boy to look down on him.

“Can’t I?” Preston asked with mock innocents. 

“Hi, Preston!” Mabel said cheerfully. She was suddenly beside Ford and had her hand on his shoulder. “Excuse us.” She tugged him away from the door and back towards the living room. 

“Ford!” She squealed, “Help him! He can get us invites to the party if you do!”

“What?” Ford sputtered. He had no interest in going to a party with that boy and his family. Catching a ghost might be fun. Well, it would definitely be fun, but going to a party was nightmarish. Especially when he didn’t know any of the people there. It was enough to give him sweaty palms.

Mabel motioned towards Susan. “Please! It’s a dream of ours.” Susan nodded emphatically. Ford sighed. Stan looked flabbergasted which was reassuring. At least he wasn’t alone in his confusion. 

He went back to the door. “Fine,” He grunted. Preston smiled. “But,” he held up a hand to pause the rich boy, “I’ll need three tickets to your party in exchange.” He dropped his hand to receive the invitations. Preston gave a long suffering sigh and reached into his other pocket.

“You’re just lucky I’m desperate.” He dropped three thick envelopes into Ford’s open hand. 

“Thank you.” 

“Wait,” Stan said from the other room. “Why do I gotta go?”

Susan laced her arm through his in answer. His brother sighed in defeat. Mabel beamed. 

“Come on,” She said to Susan, “we have to get dressed up.” She paused and eyed Stan. “You too, little man.”

Ford laughed. At least his brother would be miserable with him. 

* * *

It was amazing how quickly Mabel could throw together a dress. She’d made Susan one that was pink and looked like it was made of flower petals. She was wearing one that was long and purple with lots of layers. They’d done their hair up in extravagant styles. 

Stan was wearing their suit and looked very uncomfortable. Ford was wearing the same thing he’d been wearing all day. He was catching a ghost. He didn’t have to look good. 

They got to ride a limo to the mansion which was cool. Even if he would never admit that. They were led inside by a butler. Preston took the lead.

“Welcome to Northwest Manor, dweebs.” He motioned to the extravagant entrance. They had a grand staircase like every stereotypical rich person house on tv. “Try not to touch anything.

“Everything’s so fancy!” Susan gushed. Mabel made an exclamation of agreement and went towards the furniture. She instantly broke the ‘no touching’ rule. They ran off towards what looked like some kind of ball room. Stan gave an extremely resigned sigh. He looked at Ford who was trying not to smile. 

“The only reason,” he sighed, “I’m here is because Mabel gave me ten dollars. She’s giving me another ten at the end of the night.” He sighed again and trailed after them. 

Well, at least someone was getting something out of tonight. 

Mr. Northwest strolled down the stairs with his wife following. She had a creepily large smile on her face. Her unnaturally perfect face. She looked like something off the cover of a magazine. No blemishes to be seen. 

“Ah,” Mr. Northwest said with forced cheeriness. “if it isn’t the man of the hour!” He stopped in front of Ford. Preston moved to stand beside his father. His entire form seemed to shrink. He put his hands behind his back, dropped his shoulders, and looked at the ground. It reminded him a lot of himself around Filbrick. It made him bristle. 

“Hopefully,” Mr. Northwest continued like Ford was listening to him, “you can help us with our little… situation, before the guest arrive in an hour.” 

Of course. Had to keep those appearances up. He almost rolled his eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

Mr Northwest clapped his hands together. “Splendid! Preston, take our guest to the ‘problem room,’ and,” His eyes trailed over Ford’s form disapprovingly. He would have flushed but he’d already carefully tucked his hands into his pockets. “He’s not wearing  _ that, _ is he?” It was said like Ford was wearing something disgusting. Shameful and grotesque. 

He’d been talked about like that a lot back home, but never because of his clothes. 

Preston nodded his head. “I’ll take care of it.” He stepped forward and motioned for Ford to follow him. He did so only because there was nothing else to do. 

Preston led him through a labyrinth of enormous and richly decorated rooms. They were almost gaudy in their opulence. They finally stopped in a large room with a single, enormous bed. There was a bookshelf full of expensive looking books. A dresser with a few photos, and a few model boats. Ford took it all in silently. His eyes went to the bookshelf instinctually and he found himself begrudgingly impressed with the variety of books he found there.

“Put this on.” Preston passed him a tuxedo that looked itchy and uncomfortable. He motioned towards the adjoining bathroom. 

Ford did as he was told begrudgingly. He came out of the bathroom and tugged at his collar. Preston was sitting on his bed fiddling with a tin soldier.

“Ugh,” Ford said by way of announcing himself, “it’s like this collar is strangling me.” Preston shoved the soldier under a pillow and stood up. “Who do you guys think you’re impressing with this pomp and circumstance?”

Preston huffed out an annoyed breath and came to him. He grabbed the ends of the tie Ford had given up on. His fingers moved deftly over the fabric.

“Everyone.” He stated in reply. He kept his gaze lowered as he worked and for the first time Ford realized the obvious. This was Preston’s room and these were probably Preston’s clothes. Ford was used to wearing other people’s clothes. They’d only ever received thrift store clothing unless it was a gift. Their clothes were also always getting swapped. Sometimes on accident, and sometimes deliberately. Mabel’s sweater was just about his only belonging that Stan had never worn.

It still weirded him out and he wasn’t sure why.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Preston added after he finished with the tie. “High standards are what make the Northwest family great.”

“Is it?” Ford hummed. He grabbed the flashlight, holy water, EMF reader, and journal out of his trench coat. He stuffed them in the suit coat and turned to find that Preston was staring at his hands. 

He was thirteen. That should really stop making him blush. He was weird. He needed to get used to the looks. Why didn’t they get easier? He’d been noticing them since he was five. You’d think he’d have developed a bit thicker of skin by this point.

He straightened and turned towards the door. “Okay. Show me to the ghost.”

Preston huffed like Ford was inconveniencing him. “Of course. Follow me.”

Another maze of rooms and then they were in what might have been a study. 

“Whoa.” Was all he could manage. There were easily a dozen stuffed animal heads mounted on the wall which he found distasteful. There were enormous paintings on several walls with full portraits of snooty looking people. There was a large fireplace that dominated one wall and it bathed the room in a dark, reddish light that was lacking in warmth. The furniture in the room was all a dark wood that made the room look even eerier. 

For some reason, it made him think of the game Clue. It looked like the kind of room Mr. Body would have gotten murdered in. There was even a candlestick on the table.

“This is where most of the hauntings have taken place.”

“Mmmhmm.” He let his gaze wander over all the surfaces. This room was made for hauntings. “What sort of hauntings?”

“I don’t know, dweeb. Does it matter?”

“No,” Ford muttered sarcastically, “I just like asking useless questions.” He sighed and shook his head. “There are ten categories that Ghost fall into. They can’t all be exorcised in the same way. I won’t know what method to use if I don’t know the category Ghost you have. Now could you find it in yourself to be useful and answer the question?”

“The most recent haunting was floating plates.” Was the petulant reply he received.

“Floating plates? That sounds like a Category 1.” He went to the nearest end table and set his supplies down. Preston followed him with a disinterested air that Ford could tell was faked. Stan was a much better actor than him and Ford could always tell when he was faking.

“If it is a category 1 ghost then I’ll simply have to splash it with anointed water.” He shook the little bottle so the water swirled around. It might have been his imagination but it looked sparkly.

“I thought you would have simply read to it and bored it to death.”

“Back to death.” Ford corrected. He always found it annoyed his bullies when he corrected their insults. It was a petty power play but he never had any other power to play with.

Preston glared. Ford ignored him and pulled the EMF detector out of his pocket. It was already binging.

“What is that?”

“An EMF detector.” Ford replied. He swept the room to see where the signal was stronger.

“Is that nerd lingo?”

“Stop talking. You’re disrupting my signal.” He tapped the machine on the side and it picked the signal back up. Right in front of the fireplace. He looked up and saw that there was a large painting hanging over the fireplace with a lumberjack in it. The device in his hand rumbled. He looked down to see that there was a huge spike.

He looked back up and felt his breath catch in his throat. There was no lumberjack in the painting now. Behind him, Preston screamed.

He spun around and saw Preston gaping at the stuffed heads. His eyes went up and saw what made the rich boy look so horrified. There was blood pouring out of the stuffed heads mouths and eyes. The fire burst behind him and he jumped away from it to avoid getting singed. Despite the size of the fire the temperature in the room jumped enough that their breath was visible. As he jumped away from the fire the heads began to chant.

_ ANCIENT SINS. ANCIENT SINS. ANCIENT SINS. _

“What is this?” Preston shrieked. Books began to fly off the shelves along with the other objects in the room. Including the variety of weapons. The chandelier creaked overhead as it began to swing.

“Category 10!” Ford replied in a shrill voice. He grabbed Preston’s arm and dragged him backwards as the vial of anointed water shattered on the table.

_ ANCIENT BLOOD AND BLACKENED SKIES. THE FOREST DARK SHALL ONCE MORE RISE. _

“WHAT DO WE DO?” The words were shouted right in his ear. He winced even as he tried to find a place to hide. The table was the only thing they could fit under. He shoved the rich boy and dove after him.

They crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs and scrambled to get as close to the wall as they could. Something was coming out of the fireplace. A dark shadowy thing that started as the dark space between flames. It grew larger and larger until it merged together and started to take a form. He squinted at it and pushed his glasses up. It was a skeleton. A black, shadowy skeleton. He stepped out of the fire and as it moved it started to grow muscles and skin until the lumberjack from the painting was standing in front of them.

He titled his head upwards and his nostrils flared. “I smell... A NORTHWEST!” His voice boomed through the room. Ford dropped his eyes to the book in his hand. He tore the front cover open with no care of damaging the book. He flipped through the pages frantically until he came to the ghosts.

Category 10 had no advice written on it.

By the fire place the ghost materialized a gigantic axe out of nothing. He let its head fall to the ground and he dragged it behind himself as he walked forward.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

They were being hunted. This thing was treating them like they were playing a game of hide and seek.

Preston’s hand latched onto his arms. His nails bit into Ford’s skin through the suit fabric.

“What are you  _ doing _ ?” He hissed through his teeth. “Destroy that thing!”

Ford ignored him and pulled the black light out of his pocket. He flicked it on only to see the words  _ Pray For Mercy! _

All the furniture in the room began to float upwards, including the table they were attempting to hide under.

“Found you.” The ghost whispered with a menacing grin. He brought the axe up and swung it towards them. Ford rolled to the left while Preston scrambled to the right. They shot up and regrouped behind the massive ghost.

“This way!” Preston shrieked. He grabbed Ford’s wrist and tugged him towards the door.

* * *

Stan had never met such a large group of jerks in his life. It was like the Northwest’s had put out an advertisement requesting obnoxious and uppity people. He’d rolled his eyes so many times in the last ten minutes that they were starting to hurt.

Susan and Mabel were eating it up. They didn’t even seem to notice how pretentious everyone was behaving. One of the dudes had laughed snootily  _ on request. _ He hated everything and his suit was trying to kill him.

“Introducing Baron Marius von Fundshauser and his wife, Grenda von Fundshauser!”

Stan spared a glance for the Baron who had extremely shiny hair. The person he actually wanted to look at was Grenda. She was huge. Not in a necessarily overweight way. She looked like she could dead lift an elephant. Her brown and grey hair was pulled back in a bun and she was wearing a golden dress that was almost as shiny as the Baron’s hair. They were holding hands and laughing as they came in. They were also the only people who actually looked happy.

“Guten tag!” The Baron called out as they entered. He waved politely. Grenda looked around before gasping dramatically. She released the Baron’s hand and brought both of her hands up to cover her mouth.

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Mabel!” Her voice was shockingly deep and gravely. The large woman barreled across the room towards Mabel who was jumping up and down with excitement. The Baron followed after her with a good natured laugh.

Both the older woman embraced as they met. Grenda lifted Mabel up and spun her around while Mabel laughed. There were tears in her eyes.

“I knew you’d be here!” Mabel gushed as Grenda set her back down. Marius extended his hand towards her. She batted it away and pulled him into a hug instead. She said something to him that Stan couldn’t hear. It made him laugh.

“Stanley? Where’d he- oh!” Mabel turned around and caught him by the arm. She tugged him towards her and pushed him so that he was standing awkwardly in front of her. “This is one of my Grand Nephew’s.”

He stood still for a moment before extending his hand awkwardly. “Nice ta meet ya.”

Grenda took the hand and gave it a hard shake.

“He looks like-“

“He has a twin!” Mabel said extremely loudly. She cut Grenda off and stepped around Stan. “What is it Ford’s currently doing?”

“Hunting the ghost.” He replied like it was obvious. Because it was obvious. That had been the whole point of everything. What gave?

Graunty Mabel had a weird look on her face. She was nervous.

“Oh.” Grenda said suddenly. Stan looked over at her and she plastered on a very fake smile.

Something was going on. He opened his mouth to ask just what was going on when another hand grabbed his arm.

“Dance with me!” Susan gushed.

* * *

“We’ll cut through the garden!” Preston exclaimed. He had his hand on Ford’s wrist and was dragging him through their labyrinth of a house. He shoved open a glass door and led them out to a gorgeous garden. Every flower was in full bloom, the grass was lush and thick, the plants didn’t have a single wilted leaf, and the stone steps were placed at the perfect interval for a step. They had lit the entire area with old fashioned street lights. The type that required actual fire to light.

They got about halfway through when Ford was hit by a dark blue wing. He yelped and slipped, nearly falling. Preston tightened his grip on his wrist and tugged him up. He stumbled a few feet as Preston nearly dragged him.

“Watch out for the peacocks!” Preston gasped. Ford managed to get his feet back under himself and batted a bird away with the book. They both slipped a little in what had to be the only muddy spot in the garden. They dodged what was left of the peacocks and rushed back into the house. He got the book back open with one hand and flipped through the pages until he found the page he needed.

“Silver mirror!” He panted the word and looked around. “We need a sliver mirror to trap the painting ghost!”

He spotted an intricate silver mirror in the room across from them. He took a step towards it only for Preston to tug him back.

“No!”

“What?”

Preston had his free hand on his hip. “No. We can’t go in there.” He motioned towards their muddy feet. “That room has my parents’ favorite carpet pattern. They’ll be  _ livid _ if we track mud in there!”

“Even if it’s to get rid of their ghost?” Ford demanded. He understood not wanting to anger parents – he understood all too well the fear of even potentially upsetting a parent. God knows they went out of their way to not upset Filbrick Pines.

“We can’t! There-“ He looked around desperately. An other worldly cackle echoed in the garden. Ford jumped and tried to step towards the pristine carpet once more. Preston gave his wrist a tremendous tug and jerked him down a hallway that seemed to lead to a dead end.

“Darn it!” Ford tried to jerk his arm free of the other boys grasp. Preston grabbed at him with his free hand and Ford stepped back to avoid him. He tripped on the edge of a carpet and fell backwards against a painting of a skeleton. Preston, who had yet to let go of him, fell as well. They crashed through the painting and fell into a dark, dusty, cobweb ridden room.

He pushed himself up and coughed violently. The action sent dust flying around. It stung his eyes and got in his nose so it burned. “What is this?” He asked mostly to himself. Preston, who was still holding onto his wrist, answered.

“I… I don’t know. I’ve never seen it. I doubt anyone else knows about it. The servants would never allow it to get to this… state.”

“Hopefully the ghost doesn’t know about it.” He pulled his flashlight out and turned it on. The beam of

light lit up the immediate area, catching on the dust motes Ford had stirred and making them sparkle.

He got his legs under himself and rocked forward only to stop when he realized Preston was still holding his wrist. He dropped his eyes to it before looking up at Preston. The rich boy flushed a bright pink and snatched his hand back. He scrambled upright and walked to the other side of the room. He shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders together awkwardly. Ford rose up unsteadily and rolled his neck. 

For some reason he objected to silence right then. “Hopefully the ghost doesn’t know about this place.” 

Preston turned towards him stiffly. Ford couldn’t really make out his face in the dim light. “Yeah,” He sighed. He said something else that Ford did not hear at all. There was some sort of furniture behind the rich boy that had been covered with a sheet. It was reaching out towards Preston.

“Preston!” He croaked. He reached for the boy with the intent of pulling him away if he didn’t move. “Watch out!” Whether it was his voice, expression, or gesture, something spooked Preston.

The boy darted towards him and spun around.“What is it-Gah!” 

The ghost, cloaked in the dust cover floated out to where Preston had been standing.

“YOUR FATE IS SEALED!” The ghost bellowed. He floated towards them and raised his axe. He knocked over a platter of silver dishes as he moved. Ford’s eyes were automatically drawn to the clatter of dishes. He glanced at it for a moment before staring at the ghost again.

Wait!

“PREPARE TO DIE, NORTHWEST!”

Ford jumped forward and grabbed up the silver mirror that had been resting on the silver tray. It was big and reflective. Perfect.

He raised it up as the ghost, now free of the cloth, charged for Preston. The rich boy screamed and Ford lunged. He dove in front of the boy and raised the mirror. The ghost collided with him and they were blasted backwards. He felt himself crash into Preston and then they were both crashing through the window behind themselves. Fabric was suddenly everywhere and they were falling and rolling through grass.

He pushed himself up and saw that they were now in a garden of some sort. He was lying half on top of Preston. He pushed himself up and brought the mirror around.

“Did you- yes!” Preston peered into the mirror beside him. The ghost was banging against the front of the mirror. He was trapped. Ford turned towards Preston and raised his hand victoriously.

“High six!” He exclaimed. Preston slapped his hand with his own and beamed.

“We did it!”

They stood up a little clumsily and started back towards the house. There were already servants running over to see what the commotion had been.

“Sir!” They called out when they spotted Preston. He waved them away and continued towards the house. Mr. and Mrs. Northwest were waiting for them there.

“Ah,” Mr. Northwest sniffed, “is it done then?”

Preston nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Well, Preston, you really found the right man for the job.” He snapped his gloved fingers and a butler shuffled forward. He grabbed Ford’s right hand in both of his and gave it a shake.

His mouth would have fallen open in shock if he wasn’t trying to keep a natural smile. Were these people really so superior that they couldn’t even risk shaking his hand?

Or was it because he had an extra finger? Could they not bring themselves to touch a freak?

“Just holding up my end of the bargain.” He tugged his hand free of the butler’s and stepped back.

“Are you leaving?” Preston sounded surprised. Ford shrugged. He didn’t really see why it should surprise anyone.

“I’m sure it’ll be a lovely party but I’ve got a Category 10 Ghost to dispose of.” He turned around and didn’t bother to hide a smile. Category 10. He’d  _ caught _ one. The Author hadn’t even managed that.

He went back through the garden and noticed how beautiful a night it was. He hadn’t gotten a chance to appreciate it on any of his other outings.

Category 10! Maybe he should grab Stanley. He’d probably love to help in the exorcism. But… he kind of wanted to do it himself. He didn’t want to share-

Someone was laughing. He stopped walking and looked around uneasily. There wasn’t anyone outside. He could see a few richly dressed people dancing around in the ball room but he couldn’t see anyone around that was laughing. It sounded like it was someone right next to him. He looked down and gasped when he saw the thing laughing was the ghost.

“What are you laughing about?” He demanded. He felt a deep surge of annoyance at the thought that this thing might be laughing at him.

The ghost laughed again and shook his head. “You've been had, boy. You remind me of me a hundred and fifty years ago.”

He felt himself frowning. “What do you mean?”

The mirror flashed with light and it started to reflect an image of a forest. Two men were standing in front of it. One was the now ghost.

“One hundred and fifty years ago this day, the Northwests asked us lumber-folk to build them a mansion atop the hill. We were told t'would be a service to the town, that once a year they would throw a grand party, and all would share in the bounty. It took years of backbreaking labor and sacrifice,” the image in the mirror flashed through scenes of chopped trees, a house being built, and a graveyard expanding, “but when it was time for the grand party they promised the common folk of the town, they refused to let us in.”

The mirror showed lines of lumberjacks turning sadly away from the closed gates. It looked unnervingly like the mansion currently did. All the poor and ‘riff-raff’ locked outside while the already rich enjoyed a night of pleasure.

The ghost pounded on the door. “YOU PROMISED, NORTHWEST!”

The scene switched to show rain and mud starting to slide down the hill.

“With the trees gone, the mudslides began. While they partied and laughed, I was swept away by the storm!” An axe flew through the air. Ford squeezed his eyes shut in horror and heard a moan and a sickening squishing sound. “And so I said with final breath:

_ One-fifty years I'll return from death, and if the gate's still closed to town, wealthy blood will stain the ground! _

“A curse passed down until this day.” The scene showed the original Northwest writing down the curse and holding it. The scene switched to the current Mr. Northwest holding the curse in hand and nodding to his wife and Preston.

“Wait,” he murmured, “you’re saying they  _ knew _ this haunting was coming? And they tricked me into helping them avoid justice?”

The ghost nodded. Ford lowered the mirror and clenched his other hand in a furious fist. His throat felt tight with anger. He was hot and wanted to hit something. Ford didn’t get angry, not like this and not often. Stanley was the one that had a quick, hot, temper. Ford was cool and level headed. It took a lot to get him furious. You could do it quicker if he was stressed and tired. The quickest way to anger him was to hurt or use Stanley.

But… fatal flaw though it might be, Ford also got furious when he was tricked and made to look foolish. He did not have a lot going for him besides his brain. When he was tricked or used… Well. He  _ hated _ it.

He ran back inside and hunted the Northwests down. They were greeting the Mayor of Gravity Falls. Ford was fairly certain he’d never seen an older person. He stormed up to them.

“Northwests!” He pointed the mirror at Mr. Northwest and glowered. “You’ve got some explaining to do!”

Preston came around the corner with a glass of something and stopped when he saw Ford. A hint of a smile lifted his lip. “Ford, you came back?”

Ford glared at the rich boy who had tricked him. He thought they might have made some progress towards friendship. He’d thought Preston might have a chance at being not horrible.

“You lied to me!” He didn’t care if it sounded whiny or accusing. “All of you did! You had the means to stop the curse the entire time! It wasn’t even some hard thing! You just had to open the gates and let the townsfolk join! Instead you put my life at risk and made me do your dirty work!”

He almost mentioned that they put Preston in danger but he doubted that boy was ever in danger. If Ford had been seriously injured they probably had a backup plan.

Mr. Northwest stepped forward. Ford hadn’t realized how big the man was. He was drawing on every inch of his size now as he leaned over Ford threateningly.

“Look at who you’re talking to, boy! I’m hosting a party for the most powerful people in the world. You think they'd come here if they had to rub elbows with your kind?”

It was the same tone he’d used earlier when referring to Ford’s clothes. A dismissive tone that implied something disgusting. He hadn’t said anything earlier but now he couldn’t stop himself.

“My kind?” He stepped back and away from the large, angry man. He turned his gaze on Preston instead. The boy was nothing but a spoiled jerk. Ford wasn’t the freak here. These people were. “I was right about you all along. You're just as bad as your parents and the rest of your ancestors. You’re just another link in the world's worst chain!”

Preston stepped back as if he’d been struck. His mouth popped open and what might have been an apology began to pour out only to be cut short when Mr. Northwest leveled an angry glare on him.

Mr. Northwest stood up right again. “Enjoy the party! It's the last time you and your kind will ever come.”

* * *

Stan had never been more convinced that there was something secretly going on that no one was telling him about. Mabel had dragged Grenda to an unoccupied corner and proceeded to tell her something with a lot of gesturing. That was completely normal for Mabel. She was a gesturer. She talked with her hands and it was not a good idea to be standing too close to her when she was really excited. You might get whacked by a flailing limb.

The problem was that Mabel didn’t look excited. Or particularly happy. She looked worried. He couldn’t see Grenda’s face but he didn’t like what he could see of Mabel’s.

That alone wouldn’t have made him  _ too _ suspicious. The big honking red flag was when he went over to offer Mabel a cup of punch and they stopped talking. They both proceeded to paste on horrible fake smiles and laugh awkwardly.

Immediately after that the Baron was suddenly always at least mildly nearer.

Any time Stan was walking around he’d spot the Baron. If he tried to mosey his way towards the corner his Graunty was hiding, up would pop the Baron. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew when he was being puppy guarded.

So, yeah. He had no idea what it was, but there was something secretive going on.

* * *

"Exodus demonus,” Stupid Northwest, “spookus scarus,” stupid party, “aintafraidus noghostus." Stupid night and stupid him. How had he fallen for any of this? He was supposed to be the smart one!

“Ford!” He paused in his exorcism and looked down at the mirror. The ghost was looking at him with big, sad, glowing eyes. “Ford! Please let me get my vengeance on the Northwests! You hate them as much as I.”

Ford blinked down at the mirror. Did the ghost actually think he’d release him? He was furious at the Northwests but he didn’t want them dead. Also, his twin and Graunty were in there. He wouldn’t put them in harms way.

“I understand your rage… However, my twin brother is in there. I can’t risk him.” He shrugged apologetically and turned back to the open journal.

“Very well,” the ghost sighed. “Then, before you banish my soul, may these tired lumber eyes gaze upon the trees one final time?”

Ford really didn’t want to banish him. He was justified in wanting some sort of revenge. This was really the least he could do.

“Sure,” He lifted the mirror towards the forest. “Have at.”

There was a mad cackle and the mirror became painfully hot. Ford reflexively let it go as it burned him. His brain, knowing what he had just done, made him scramble to grab the falling mirror ago. He was too slow and it shattered. The air instantly grew cool as all the candles around him went out. Smoke filled the air as the ghostly form of the lumberjack rose towards the sky.

“HA HA! VENGEANCE!” The ghost shot towards the house as Ford struggled to his feet.

“No, please!” He cried out pointlessly. “STANLEY!”

For the rest of his life, Ford would never remember the actual run to the mansion. The first thing he would remember was running into the ballroom and seeing his brother standing in the middle of the floor with a look of shock on his face. His body was half recoiling, half moving to a fighter’s stance. His normally cheerful, brown eyes, were dull and lifeless. He was made entirely of wood now.

Mabel was a dozen or so feet behind him. Her hands were reaching towards him and there was a heart broken expression on her face like she knew she wouldn’t reach him in time.

This was his fault! He’d been duped twice in one night and he’d gotten his family frozen as trees for his efforts.

“JUST ONE WAY TO CHANGE YOUR FATES: A NORTHWEST MUST OPEN THE PARTY GATES!”

The ghostly warning bellowed through the room. Ford took a step back and felt as though he was leaving part of himself in the ballroom. 

He should have brought his twin brother with him. Stanley would have seen through all the lies. Stanley would have been suspicious of everyone. 

_ Just one way to change your fates. A Northwest must open the party gates. _

Preston was a Northwest. He could open the party gates. Ford would make him open them to save Stanley. 

He ran down the hallway and skidded to a stop when he saw a flickering light behind the tapestry they’d fallen through earlier. The one that had a secret room hiding behind it. 

He ducked under the tapestry and felt his breath catch. Preston was leaning against the cabinet that the ghost had emerged from earlier. He was turning his flashlight on and off and it was pointing at a series of paintings. He looked like he had been crying. His breath was even catching.

“Preston?” 

The rich boy’s eyes snapped up and he sucked in a noisy and frightened breath.

“Stanford? I… I thought you were my parents.” He slumped and turned the flashlight off. The only light was filtering in from the ripped tapestry. He couldn’t see the boy’s face clearly from his position in the doorway.

“Preston, the ghost got out.” The words came stumbling out. “It-it got the party goers. Everyone’s been turned to wood.”

“Huh.”

Ford went to Preston’s side without registering the movement. He sank beside him and grabbed his arm. 

“You’re the only one who can free them!”

“Do you know what I found in here?”

“What are you talking about?” His hand wouldn’t stop shaking. He needed to concentrate. Stanley’s life was at stake. There wasn’t time for whatever crisis Preston was having.

“Look at all these paintings… It’s like some sort of sick chronicle. Every  _ terrible _ thing my family has ever done is chronolized here.” He turned on Ford with a wild look in his eyes. “We aren’t even the town’s founders! We’ve stolen everything. Our status, our wealth, our house.” He looked back at the painting in front of them. It was of his parents. The light was shaking. “You were right. We are the world’s worst chain. All these years… I’ve let myself believe we were important. Everything I’ev believed has been a lie. I.” He inhaled shakily and brought his hands up to cover his face. The flashlight clattered to the floor. “I’ve spent my entire life as a lie. I even lied to you because I was too scared to go against my parents!”

“Of course you did.” Ford sputtered. “You don’t know me. Who’d risk angering their parents over a stranger?” Ford couldn’t imagine doing that. He’d risk Filbrick’s rage for Stanley in a heartbeat but that was pretty much it. 

Preston frowned at him. Fat tears fell from his blue eyes. “I’m just like my parents. You risked your life for us and I…” He choked on the word and turned his head away.

“Just because you’re their child doesn’t mean you have to be like them.” Stanley had told Ford that whenever his temper got the best of him. He told Stanley the same thing when he got violent in the boxing ring. “Besides, if you don’t want to be like them, then help us!” Ford stood up and took a step towards the door. He extended a hand towards Preston. “Open the gates and break this curse.” He tried to smile but he was too scared. It came out awkward and stiff and wrong. He gave it up as a bad job. “I’ll consider the debt paid back in full.”

“I can’t even walk on a carpet. What on earth makes you think-”

“IT’S TOO LATE!!!”

Ford jumped at the ghostly bellow. It was coming from the main hall. 

“YOU ARE ALL WOOD!”

No! It couldn’t be! There had to still be time to get rid of the ghost. Stanley!

He dashed out of the room without checking to see if Preston was following him. let that boy do what he wanted. He ran down the hall and back to the ballroom. Hovering at the top of the grand staircase was the ghost. He was glowing with a blue fire and was laughing in front of a tapestry of the Northwests. Everyone was wood.

Cold fury burned is Ford’s gut. He bolted to the nearest table and grabbed the first silver item he could find. He hefted the silver platter up in the air and climbed onto the table. 

“GHOST!” He shouted. The lumberjack spirit turned towards him and laughed. He tugged the journal out of his pocket right as a bolt of blue energy hit his chest. 

It was a weird feeling. His legs suddenly felt heavy. Heavier than they’d ever felt in his life. He couldn’t move them and it didn’t feel like they could possibly hold him up any longer. He tried to scream but found his lungs wouldn’t move. His chest froze along with his arms. Then, he couldn’t feel anything else.

* * *

Stanley could probably live to be a million and he still wouldn’t believe the way this evening had turned out.

It was weird enough to think that a lumberjack ghost could exist and curse people like the Northwests. Weirder still be turned to wood.

But he would never understand how all these spoiled rich people could possibly be upset that Preston Northwest broke the curse by letting in the townsfolk. How did a person get upset at being freed from being a tree? Having to deal with the towns people was a small price to pay for not spending the rest of our life as a tree. 

And he was also unhappy that he owed his un-cursed state to Preston Northwest of all people. 

Still, the end of the night had been fun. He’d got to hang with Susan, Wendy, Fiddleford, and Ford for the rest of the night. Preston had hovered near their group but never quite joined in. Ford had tried to talk to him a few times but the boy would always flush and duck away before Ford could say much.

It was night now and they were both up in their room. Ford had spent a solid hour telling him about the ghost hunting adventure. He was telling him about what he’d missed in the actual party now. It wasn’t near as exciting as the ghost hunting. Still, Stan wanted to know Ford’s opinion on Grenda and Mabel’s potential secret.

“She gave Mabel an envelope?”

“Not like a letter.” Stan corrected. “Like one of those folder sized envelopes. Mabel tucked it in her purse before I could get a good look at it. She said something about Candy and code as well. I don’t know.” he sighed and leaned back in his bed. He had his right arm bent with his hand tucked under his head. He tossed a wad of gum at the ceiling and pumped his left hand when it stuck. “I feel like she’s hiding something.”

“But what?” Ford asked. 

“I don’t know. That’s why it bothers me.”

“Well,” Ford replied cheerfully enough that Stan turned his head to look at him. He was sitting on his bed with the journal open and on his lap. He was making notes on the category 10 Ghost page. “We’ll just have to do a little investigating tomorrow.”

Stan looked back at the ceiling and tried not to sigh. He wasn’t sure why, but he was kind of dreading tomorrow. Whatever the secret was, he didn’t think it’d be good.


	18. Not What He Seems: What did I do to warrant this much arresting?

“Come on, come on. Should be just enough to finish the job.” Mabel dumped the empty tub aside and straightened her now aching back. She’d been bent over for far too long. She wasn’t as young as she’d once been. Blargh. Growing old  _ sucked. _

Green liquid dripped off the empty tub and sizzled on the ground. It glew an unnatural green. She frowned and peeled her gloves off. 

“Hmm. Probably should be more careful with that stuff. Oh well.” That was why she’d given Fiddleford the night off. She didn’t want him around this waste. He’d be here for the actual event. Probably. She couldn’t decide how dangerous it’d be. She wouldn’t risk him. She wouldn’t risk any of them no matter how much she wanted him to meet her family. 

A red light began to flash over head and the buzzer went off again. She would normally have rolled her eyes at how dramatic and annoying it was. Today, she didn’t care. She let herself smile and hope. The screen over head read EVENT INITIALIZED and an eighteen hour countdown had begun. 

Her eyes dropped to the open journal in front of her. Dipper’s sloppy handwriting swam before her teary eyes.  _ Warning: Extreme usage could result in minor gravity anomalies. _

“Whatever, Dip-Dop.” She flipped the journal shut and stuck it on top of the second journal. “I’ve come too far. I’m not quitting on you now.” She slammed her hand down on the big button and the portal began to spin.

“Ha-ha!” She squealed with a bubble of energy she hadn’t felt in thirty years. “It’s happening!”

She suddenly found herself floating up and grabbed onto the stick switch to ground herself. A burst of nervous energy bubbled up in her stomach at the feeling. She could hear her brother crying for help and had to blink away the tears at the memory. 

God. She hated this basement. She’d never come down here again once he was safe.

Gravity turned itself back on and she dropped to the floor. She righted herself and peered at the portal. Her hand rose to clutch the locket on her neck. 

“It’s going to be a bumpy ride, Bro-Bro. It’ll be worth it though.” She fiddled with the timer on her wrist so that it was set to the same time as the portal. “Just eighteen more hours. Finally.” Tears fell from her eyes even as she tried to blink them back. “Finally… Everything changes.” She looked up at the portal and hugged herself. “Ready or not, Dipper, it’s happening today.”

* * *

Stanley Pines had done a lot of questionable things in his life. He’d stolen, lied, cheated, haggled, and beaten people up. Most of it he was fine with. Some of it he’d even had a lot of fun with.

He had never felt so guilty about something as he did right now. But… he had to know.

Mabel’s knit bag was sitting on the kitchen counter unsupervised. He’d been looting through it for a solid minute now and was beginning to lose hope. She had a ridiculous amount of stuff in the bag.

“Gumball?”

Stan had to have jumped a foot off the ground. He dropped the bag and its contents clattered on the ground noisily. Sadly, nothing he hadn’t already seen fell out.

“Graunty Mabel!” He spun around and tried to smile innocently. He was good at bluffing but there was always something hard about looking innocent. It was much easier to pretend anger, excitement, or confusion.

Mabel’s eyes were on the scattered item as he turned around. They raised up to meet his in confusion.

“What’re you doing?”

“I was looking for some gum.” He had decided on that lie before he started. That was the best thing to do when you could get caught. Come up with your excuse before you started so that you didn’t have to think one up. Honest people didn’t take forever to explain themselves.

Mabel raised her eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just ask for some?”

He shrugged. “Sorry?”

She snorted. “You know that’s not how you ask for things.”

He very nearly sighed. Mabel was all about those three stupid words. Please and Thank you were something she was big on with customers and with friends/family. He didn’t mind ‘Thank You’ because it was just showing gratitude. He was typically grateful when people did things for him because they didn’t have to and there were a lot of people who didn’t.

He hated saying Please. It felt too much like begging. It was degrading and weak and he hated feeling weak more than almost anything.

“Do I gotta?”

Mabel bent down and picked the pack of cinnamon gum off the floor. “Yes, please.”

He was safe with Mabel. Regardless of what she was hiding in that mysterious letter, Mabel had never hurt him. Not deliberately. She teased with gusto but not where it hurt. Not after the height thing. He was safe.

He swallowed thickly, balled his hands into fist, and dropped his gaze to the floor. “May I please have some gum?”

Mabel passed him the entire pack of gum. “I am so proud of you.” He looked up to see her rifling through her secret sweater pocket. She pulled a small book out and rifled through the sticker filled pages until she came to something specific. She smiled broadly and peeled one off. She poked it onto his cheek with a laugh. He just knew it said something about please.

“I promise,” She draped her arm over his shoulder, “that Please gets a lot easier to say the more you say it.” She booped his nose and gave him a tight, quick, hug. He returned it with mock grumpiness. He loved her hugs.

“Now,” she said as she released him from the hug but not her hold, “go get your twin and wait on the porch. I’ve got plans for today. Explosive ones.” She cackled merrily and let him go. He stood still for a minute before going to the living room where he knew Ford would be.

His brother looked up when he entered the room. “Did you find it?”

He shook his head and sighed. “No dice.” He passed him a piece of gum. Ford took it with a raised eyebrow. “Come on,” Stan said instead of answering the unasked question. “Mabel told us to wait outside.” Ford opened his mouth. “No, I don’t know why. Something about explosive plans.”

He forced his brother outside and found that Mabel had set out a cooler with their favorite Pitt flavors, a variety of snack foods, and a large, wooden, crate. Stan instantly went to it while Ford plopped down next to the cooler and opened his book back up.

“Nerd.” Stan called to him as he examined the crate’s lid.

Ford didn’t bother looking up as he replied. “Knucklehead.”

“Hey,” Mabel came out of the house with a laundry basket full of what looked like water balloons. She set the basket down as both twins turned towards her. “You’ll need a hammer or crowbar.”

Stan pulled his knife out of his pocket and pried one of the staples out. He started on the second one and felt Mabel tap his shoulder. She passed him a hammer.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Gumball.”

He almost continued with the knife just because he could but he could feel the sticker on his cheek. He took the hammer and pried the remaining staples off.

There were a lot of fireworks in the box.

Ford screamed when the first firework went off. He hadn’t been paying attention until it was shooting towards the sky. Mabel and Stan were laughing with delight and setting off fireworks all over the place. He joined the fray and within minutes they had lit the sky with their fiery display.

Once they’d blown everything up Mabel had them put out a few of the ‘fires’ with water balloons. That devolved into the twins trying to pelt each other.

Strangely, Mabel didn’t join them on that part. She was still on the porch and leaning against one of the front columns. She had her arm wrapped around it and a wistful expression that was both happy and scared.

Ford hit him with a balloon across the face. That didn’t stop him from staring. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach. He didn’t know why, but he knew in that moment that everything was going to change. Whatever was about to come out was going to change the summer.

He wanted to stop everything. To freeze time and stop whatever the big thing was. Stan  _ hated _ change. He hated not knowing what was going to happen.

“Guys?”

Ford stopped and joined him at his side. The sticker had fallen off Stan’s cheek at some point. He could tell because his wet hair was plastered against his face.

Mabel waited until she had their attention. “I’ve got something to tell you. It’s… It’s big but…”

“What?” Ford, ever curious, seemed almost eager. Stan just felt dread.

“Promise me you won’t –“

They never found out what they were supposed to promise. A red dot appeared on Mabel’s arm. She looked down at it and frowned.

“What is that?” She moved her hand to hover over it and at least a dozen more dots appeared all over her body.

Before anyone could react a masked person in a combat suit surged across the yard and pinned Mabel to the ground. More people flooded after him, including Agent Trigger and Powers.

“Target secure! Take the house!”

Agents suddenly surrounded both the twins and Mabel was handcuffed.

“Kids are secure! Roof team, Go!” Agents went crashing into the shack from trees and a helicopter of all things. One came out with Waddles who was tied up. Someone else started wrapping yellow police line tape around the Shack as they lifted Mabel up.

“What gives!” Mabel shouted.

“What’s going on?” Ford demanded. Powers turned towards him. “I thought you were eaten by zombies?”

Stan tried to break free from the guy holding him. Another man joined the agent and he found himself aggressively restrained. Powers answered Ford but Stan wasn’t paying attention. They were bringing Mabel over. Her cheek and arms were all scratched up from being tackled.

“This is security footage of a government waste facility.” Powers showed her a tablet that showed someone stealing barrels in a hazmat suit. “At o'four hundred hours last night someone robbed three hundred gallons of dangerous waste.”

“You think that was me? Why on earth-“

“Don't play dumb with us, Pines.”

“I’m not playing!” The agent holding her jerked her backwards and towards the car. Stan tried to move after her but the agents had too good of a hold on him. “Last night I was stocking the gift shop. I swear!”

“Graunty!” Both twins shouted.

Powers bent down so he was eye level with Ford. He seemed fine ignoring Stan.

“Listen, kid. We've been watching your family all summer and we've seen some disturbing things. But nothing as dangerous as what your aunt is hiding. Somewhere hidden in this shack is a doomsday device!” He straightened like he hadn’t just said something utterly ridiculous and looked at Trigger. “You take the children. I'll talk to the woman.” He spared them a final glance. “Sorry to break it to you kids but you don't know your aunt at all.”

* * *

Stanley was supposed to be the one who was eventually arrested, not Ford. If Ford did get arrested it would be because he knew too much about some super secret conspiracy and had to be silenced. Stanley would then rescue him, of course. 

Mabel? She’d never even been on his radar as a possibility. She was too old and too… nice? Quirky? Whatever it was about her, he never saw her ending up in jail. 

And now she was arrested by the  _ feds _ and they were trapped in the backseat of an SUV and being forced to watch crap reality tv.

“We have to get out of here.” Ford muttered to him. 

Stan glanced at his brother before resuming his examination of door. It had been child locked, much to his annoyance. 

“You know there’s no way she actually stole toxic waste.”

Stan gave his brother his full attention. “Of course she didn’t.” He let his indignation leak through his voice. It was insulting to think that Ford believed he needed to be told that obvious fact. “We just gotta find a way to prove that.” He paused and pulled ineffectively on the door handle. “And escape.” He didn’t want to reach their destination. He did not want to go to child services. They’d just send them back home. There was still some summer left. They couldn’t go back yet. Not like this. 

“Graunty Mabel said she was restocking the shop last night, didn’t she?”

Stan nodded his head. Ford furrowed his brow and didn’t return Stan’s curious gaze. He was staring at the tv the agent had turned on in the car to stop their questions. Stan recognized his twin’s expression. He had an idea.

“If she was then we just have to get the surveillance tape.” He reached forward cautiously and moved his eyes to the agent. Trigger was ignoring them and focusing on the road. Ford’s hand grabbed something tucked beside the agent's seat and he tugged it free. He brought it back to his lap and showed it to Stan. It was beef jerky.

“Hey,” he asked Agent Trigger after he hid the jerky behind Stan. “Can we get the windows rolled down? It’s stuffy back here and I get asthma attacks when it’s too hot.” 

Trigger glanced at them through the mirror. He reached over and turned the air conditioner up higher. 

“Come on, man. Fresh air helps him. The attacks come quicker if he’s stressed.” Stan said pleadingly. Ford sucked in a ragged breath and wheezed. Stan put his hand on his shoulder to help sell the act. His nerdy brother didn’t have asthma but it wouldn’t be the first time they’d tried that lie. For some reason people always assumed nerdy kids had asthma. 

Sure enough, Trigger glanced at them again and frowned. He was silent for a moment before lowering the windows about an inch. 

Ford continued to wheeze for a few more seconds until Trigger was focusing on the road again. He then secured the beef jerky back from Stan and pulled out a piece. Stan covered the crinkling noise of the wrapper with a few loud coughs. 

Ford tore off a chunk of the jerky and threw it out the window. He waited a second or two and threw another chunk out the window. 

He did that for about a minute. Stan was trying to figure out how to ask what he was doing without alerting Trigger when he noticed something dark and big was running through the trees to their left. Ford threw an entire strip of jerky at whatever was in the woods. A creature jumped out from the trees and caught the piece of meat mid air. It then slammed into the driver’s door. 

Trigger screamed at the top of his lungs and jerked the wheel hard to the right. The car skidded off the road and straight into a tree. Stan didn’t have time to do anything but clutch onto Ford as they went hurtling into it. The car crashed into the trunk and a huge branch busted through the front window. Trigger was caught up in it as the huge, dark, monster dove back at Ford’s window. It was a huge minotaur. Or… Manotaur, yeah. That’s what Ford had called them. 

If Stan had learned nothing else this summer, he had learned how to react quickly in absurd situations. He tore off his seat belt and dove for the passenger’s side door. The manotaur crashed through the window and grabbed for the seat Ford had just been sitting in. Both twins clambered out the door and scrambled away from the tree and wrecked car. 

“What is that thing? Some kind of minotaur?” Trigger squeaked from his trapped position. 

“I’m a MANOTAUR! And I smell JERKY!” The manotaur emerged from the car with his pack of jerky and strolled casually away.

Trigger brought a shaking hand to his ear. “Backup! Requesting backup!”

Ford dashed forward and pulled the earpiece away. He tossed it to the ground and stomped on it. Stan grabbed his wrist.

“Come on, we gotta get out of here.”

“You two don’t know what you’re doing! You have no idea what your aunt has been up to! SHE’S LYING!”

Stan ignored him and ran for the mystery shack. It was less than a mile away if they ran through the woods.

* * *

Ford was the one that found the vhs. He passed it to Stan who shoved it in the vcr. The blue tv screen turned to static and then a picture of the shop popped up. Mabel was at the counter opening a new box of snow globes. She turned each one upside down as she took it out and smiled when the snow swirled around. She was humming to herself as she moved from box to box of memorabilia.

“See,” Stan sighed with relief, “she was at the shop. We can prove her… innocent…” He trailed off as Mabel walked to the door. She left the shop with a glance back.

Ford’s breath caught in his throat. Stan scrambled for the remote and fast forwarded the tape. 

“She’s just stepping out for a moment. Probably groceries. We were out of sprinkles or something.” Stan rambled as he fast forwarded. An hour passed on the video. Then another. 

He paused the video abruptly as a figure dressed in a glittery hazmat suit came back into the shop dragging a barrel with the toxic waste symbol. Ford blinked at the frozen screen four times before he could make any sense of it.

“Shit.” Stan said. “Shit. Shit. No!”

“Maybe it’s not-” Ford started but he was cut off by Stan. His twin rounded on him with wide, angry eyes. He nearly got whacked by the remote he was waving around.

“Maybe what? It’s not her? It’s a glittery suit, poindexter!” He poked at the Mabel on the tv angrily. “Why would she do that and not tell us?”

Ford had no idea and he  _ hated _ being clueless. Ideas were the one thing he was always supposed to have. He was the clever twin who had answers. He had nothing. It made no sense for Mabel to steal toxic waste.

Was everything else the agents said true? Was she building a death machine?

Stan tossed the remote on the vcr and tugged the nearest desk drawer open. Ford gaped at him. It felt like he was trying to make his brain move through jelly. 

“What are you doing?” He finally managed. 

“Lookin’ for clues.”

“What sort of clues?”

Stan shrugged. “Clues to what’s goin’ on.” He plucked up an envelope with a triumphant grin. “I can’t believe it! It was in here all this time.” He tugged the envelope flap open and his mouth popped open. “What the hell?”

Ford peered over and felt his own mouth pop open. There was cash inside it. A lot. In hundred dollar bills. There was a letter included that was written in some other language. Stan dropped the entire thing on top of the vcr with a worried frown.

Ford tugged the drawer in front of him open. There was a glittery, purple bound scrapbook inside. He plucked it out and opened the front cover. There was a picture of both of them as infants being held by a younger Mabel. She was grinning and crying. It made something hurt in his chest to look at it. He squashed the hurt down and flipped through the pages. There were a lot of christmas cards from other family members as well as a few pictures. Mostly of Shermie and them. A lot of pages towards the back of the scrapbook had been ripped out. The pages that were there looked like they were covered in tears. 

He reached the end of the scrapbook and stopped. There was a very familiar piece of paper tucked in the plastic covering. He’d seen glimpses of the document a dozen times. He’d even held it once. He’d just never really looked at it. He’d never bothered to read the signature.

_ Mason Pines. _

Who was Mason Pines?

“What’d ya think this is about?” Stan shoved a notebook under his nose. He set the scrapbook down with numb fingers and squinted down at the notebook. It was full of meaningless words. They swam before his eyes in a sea of nonsense. He had to blink to focus and they were still gibberish. He flipped a page and nearly dropped the notebook as he recognized the code. It was the same code the Author used.

“Where’d you get this?” He flipped to another page and saw the margins had been filled in with Mabel’s loopy handwriting. They were deciphering the code. He recognized a line from the third journal but most of them he hadn’t read before.

A  _ lot _ of them were warning about danger and evil and anomalies. Specifically gravitational.

The moment he read it the world seemed to glitch around him. Both twins started to float up into the air along with all the contents of the room. Stan’s hands latched on to his arm in fright.

“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know!” Ford retorted. “It’s a gravitational anomaly just like-” they slammed back into the ground, hard.

“Hey!” Stan bent down and picked up something that had fallen out from under the desk. It was a state ID. 

“Millicent Pinesfield.” Ford read out loud. Stan’s hand was shaking as he held the fake id. It had a picture of a much younger Mabel on it. One that might have been in her thirties. 

“What is all this?” Stan demanded like Ford would have an answer. 

“I don’t know!” He looked back at the sprawled scrapbook. It had flopped over on the desk. There was a sticky note stuck to its back. Some sort of code was written on it. 

_ A-B-1-C-3 _

Stan picked it up and peered down at it. “Why is this familiar…” He frowned and squinted at the paper. They needed to get him new glasses. Which just showed how distracted and overwhelmed Ford was.

“Oh!” Stan suddenly declared. He was loud enough to make Ford jump. “I know! The vending machine!”

“What?”

Stan grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the door. “The vending machine,” he explained, “I’ve seen Mabel punching random numbers into it before.” 

They made it to the employee only room where the vending machine resided. Stan stopped in front of it and then inexplicably stepped back. He inhaled sharply and didn’t make any motion towards the machine. Ford plucked the note out of his hand and punched the numbers and letters. The machine lit up with a strange blue light and then it was swinging open.

The Agents were right. They’d been right about it all. What on earth was Mabel hiding down here?

He went forward five steps before realizing Stan wasn’t following him. He gazed back at his twin and motioned for him to follow. Stan didn’t move for another long moment. Right when Ford decided to grab him his brother took a step forward. He brushed passed Ford and went on down the steps.

* * *

This couldn’t be real. There was no way this was real. Stan had hit his head in the car wreck and was currently having an insane dream. It was the only option. There was no possible way that Mabel had a secret lab under the house. There was no way she had technology like the bunker. There was no way she had the other two journals. 

There was no way this was real. Stan had seen a lot of impossible things but this was past impossible.

“This whole time she had them!” Ford ranted. He’d been ranting for a few minutes. Stan was staring at the blinking monitor without seeing it. 

It didn’t make sense. Mabel was scared of the journal. Why would she have two more?

Why wouldn’t she have told Ford?

“Was anything she said real?!” Ford demanded. Stan tore his gaze from the monitor to look at his brother but got distracted by a framed picture. It was a picture of the three of them after they had gotten the shack back. They were all making goofy faces while Wendy took the picture. There was another picture beside it with her, Fiddleford, Soos, and Wendy. 

It didn’t make sense.

“Could she be the author?”

“Or she-” Ford never got to finish his theory because once again gravity decided to just stop working. They both floated up into the air as the giant circle thing in the other room lit up. It looked like something from that nerd series Ford loved. Stargate or something. 

Stan caught hold of the window separating this room from the giant lab thing and used it to stop floating too high. He caught Ford’s hand and held on to keep him from floating off. They landed with a thud. The portal grew brighter with the gravity blip. 

“Stan.” Ford was righting himself with the desk and was reading whatever was on one of the other journals.

“What?”

“I can’t bel… listen to this: I was wrong the whole time. The machine was meant to create knowledge but it is  _ too powerful _ . I was deceived, and now it is too late. The device, if fully operational, could  _ tear our universe apart! _ It must not fall into the wrong hands. If the clock ever reaches zero, our universe is doomed!" He raised his eyes to meet Stan’s gaze. There was a fierce anger and defiance in the brown eyes. He pulled his journal out and flipped to a well worn page. 

“Come on,” he grabbed Stan’s wrist and tugged him towards the door to the big lab thing. “We have to shut this all down.” He followed his brother into the large room where the portal thing was glowing ominously. Ford ignored it and made a beeline towards three switches on a control panel looking thing.

“We have to turn these three together. You get that one, I’ll get these two.” Ford directed. Stan took the key he was directed and tried not to think how much this looked like something that would activate a nuclear bomb in a movie. 

Ford counted them down and they turned the key. There was a click behind them. The stick looking thing in the center of the room was where the noise was coming from. The top had popped open on it to reveal a red button.

“DON’T!” Mabel’s screech blasted through the air and stopped both twins in their tracts. She was standing with her long gray hair loose, her sweater ripped at the shoulder, and her skirt covered in mud and leaves. Her glasses had slid down her nose and she was panting to regain her breath. her right hand was extended towards them like she could reach them and stop them. She stepped forward and supported herself on the doorframe with her left hand. “Please, please don’t press that button.”

Ford took a defiant step towards the button. “Why shouldn’t we? What do you know about the portal?” He demanded hotly. “You’ve been lying and hiding since the beginning. The Author said this thing could destroy the universe.”

“Please,” Mabel said again, “just let me explain it. I can tell you everything like I meant to-” She was interrupted by a loud beeping coming from her new wrist watch. SHe balked as she looked down at it. “Not now.” She looked back up at them in panic. “Brace yourselves and don’t get near the-” She was cut off again but this time by a gravity blip. All three of them rose up into the air.

A computerized voice spoke: “T minus thirty-five seconds.”

There were screams as everyone went flying upwards and the portal flashed brighter. Stan, who had been moving towards Ford, was sent straight towards the button. Gravity turned back on just long enough for Stan to right himself on the button pedestal. 

Mabel cried out as her body slammed into the floor. Her watch beeped again.

The world stopped working around Stan once more. He was pulled weightlessly up into the air and had to wrap his leg around the cord to keep from rising all the way to the ceiling. His mind briefly wondered if this was what it felt like in space before he shut the wandering thoughts down. 

“Ford!” He called out. He couldn’t see his brother. The light behind and around him was too bright, it was blurring his already questionable vision. He’d lost his glasses ages ago.

“Turn it off!” Ford shrieked desperately. He was caught on some support beam that was floating through the room. Stan twisted the cord around his leg again and reached down for it. There was a slight tugging sensation at his back. Whatever that thing behind him was, it was trying to draw him in. He caught hold of the wire and climbed down it. Which was weird. It was like the rope in gym only he was pulling himself towards the floor.

It would be really easy to lose all sense of direction in this gravity-less world. It was like being really deep underwater. The only way to tell which way was up then was to blow a few bubbles. They always rose up right even if you couldn’t tell which way that was. 

“No, Stan! Stop!” Mabel’s cry was shrill and pierced through the room. She was trying to swim through the air towards him. Tears were streaming from her eyes and floating upwards. Ford rammed into her side out of nowhere and wrapped his limbs around her.

“Hey, stop!” She demanded. Stan reached the button and wrapped one arm around the base. He sucked in a weird feeling breath and tried to focus. He couldn’t think. His mind wouldn’t hold still or move. It felt like his brain had shut down. There were too many thoughts swirling around his head and his brain couldn’t process any of them. 

“Go!” Ford shouted, “Press the red button and shut it down!” 

Stan brought his free hand up and hovered it over the button. His eyes lifted up and found Mabel.

“Stan,” She gasped out despite the fact that she had two people hanging off her. Her eyes were blown wide with panic and the tears were falling faster. “You can’t, please! You have to trust me!”

Trust?  _ Trust No One. _ That’s what the journal had said. How could he trust Mabel? She’d lied. She had a doomsday machine in her basement for crying out loud. She’d had the journals the entire time. She’d been conning them since the beginning.

She had saved them from zombies. She’d made them sweaters, tried to patch up any wounds, and given them nicknames. She’d held parties for them.

Why?

“Graunty Mabel,” he gasped out and he felt tears fall, or rise, from his own eyes. He tried to blink them away but they kept coming anyway. His pa would be furious with him for such weakness. “I don’t even know if you  _ are _ my Graunty.” He choked a little and had to swallow before continuing. He had to think. He had to figure out how to fix this. Logic had never been his area. Stan operated on his heart. He was floating in front of a doomsday machine with a lying aunt. Logic didn’t seem that useful right now.

_ Trust No One. _

_ Trust me, Gumball. _

“I wanna believe you, but…” He trailed off and sucked in a stuttering breath. He felt sick. 

“Then hear me out, Stanley!” She struggled against his twin’s hold. “Remember this morning? I tried to tell you something but…” She had gotten arrested. Really,  _ really _ arrested. “I wanted to say that you’re going to find out some things about me… Some thing that might seem horrible but I swear everything I’ve done I’ve done for my family!”

The thing behind him flared up and gravity went even more nuts. He felt himself being pulled up towards the ceiling again. Mabel, and Ford were thrown against the wall furthest from him. The bar Ford had been floating on flew after them and pinned them in place.

He wanted to spring towards his brother and free him from the trap. He wanted to help Graunty Mabel up and bandage her bleeding cheek. He didn’t want whatever was going on behind him to continue.

He didn’t want to press the button.

“Stan! Don’t be stupid! She’s lying! That thing could destroy the entire universe!” 

Stan winced at his brother’s shouted words. Ford never called him stupid. Knucklehead was hit title of choice. He was careful never to call Stan anything else that implied he was dumb. It was an unspoken agreement between them. Stan never called his brother a freak and Ford didn’t call him stupid.

His brother was the smart one. Not Stanley. He couldn’t risk the world on what he wanted. He got a tighter grip on the stand and raised his hand again.

“Stanley!” Mabel’s voice pierced the roaring air. His eyes shot up. She was sobbing. Her tears were mixing with the blood and tears on her face and reflecting the dazzling lights of the portal behind him. “Gumball, do you really think I’m evil?”

“She’s LYING!” Ford shrieked. 

“Stanley, please!”

A sticker stuck to his cheek with a laugh. A promise that it was easier to say the more you said it. Cups of hot chocolate and late night hugs. Scrapbooks with torn out pages and tear stains.

A woman who threw herself between him and a zombie. Who gave up all she had so he didn’t have to fly home. A Graunty who nursed him to health and watched stupid movies with him.

_ Trust me, Gumball. _

“Graunty Mabel,” He could hear the computer counting down. Her voice was as loud as his. He couldn’t make his voice any louder though. “I...” he swallowed and let go of the button’s stand. His body started to rise as he raised his hands in surrender. He avoided looking at his brother and closed his eyes. “I trust you.”

Stanley Pines knew he wasn’t smart. What he was was loyal, and he’d trust his family even if it killed him.

He really,  _ really _ , hoped it didn’t kill Ford.

* * *

There was no resisting the pull of the portal. One moment he was chasing down the most vile creature in the multiverse, the next moment he was being tugged towards the glowing light that had changed his life thirty(?) years ago. 

The weightless light surrounded him and suddenly he was walking through the light into a muggy, dark basement. One he hadn’t seen in decades. There was a familiar journal laying on the ground. He bent down and lifted it with a pang of something like regret. He shoved it in his jacket and peered around. Someone was coughing and someone else was moaning in pain. A spindly figure was sitting up a few dozen feet away from him. She had bushy, long, gray hair that was covering most of her face. He could see laughter lines and a cracked lens. Brown eyes blinked up at him.

“Who is that?” A young voice asked the question. A kid sat up from a pile of rubble and looked at him with thick glasses that were sitting lopsided on his nose. 

“The Author of the Journals.” The older woman shoved her hair back and looked up at him. “My twin bro.”

_ Mabel. _


	19. A Tale of Two Stans: It all started a lifetime ago

The lurking figure marched purposefully towards Mabel who looked small and damaged on the floor. Every protective instinct in Stan flared up at once and he scrambled to his feet. He dove towards Mabel but he was too late. The darkly dressed man reached her first. He grabbed her arms and lifted her upright none too gently. 

“Dip-dop,” Mabel breathed shakily. The man held her at arms length for a moment before tugging her too his chest in an abrupt hug. Mabel immediately sobbed and wrapped her arms around him in turn. 

Stan stopped cold in his tracks. He couldn’t do anything but blink in confusion. 

What was going on?

Ford coughed as he sat up himself. That broke Stan out of his reverie and he darted towards his twin. The older twins continued to talk together in a hushed voice Stan couldn’t hear. Ford was covered in dirt and bits of rock from the basement. He had a gash on his cheek and it already showed signs of bruising. 

His brother accepted his help upright and straightened his glasses. His eyes shot to the portal and Stan felt his skin crawl. He hadn’t thought about the portal. Was it still running? A quick glance relieved his fears. The portal was broken in half and no longer glowing. 

“Uh, excuse me, sir.” Ford’s quiet voice drew Stan’s attention. His twin was now staring openly at the man that was apparently Mabel’s twin. His voice drew the attention of both adults as well. “Who are you?” His voice cracked on the last word and his cheeks flushed. 

“Me?” The man asked in confusion. He glanced at Mabel who smiled wetly. “I’m Dipper Pines.”

“Like I said,” Mabel added. “My twin brother and the author of the journals.”

Ford paled dramatically and his mouth fell open with wonder. Stan nearly laughed. 

Dipper released Mabel and stepped towards them. He went down on one knee and stuck his hand out towards them. “Nice to meet you, man.” Ford accepted the hand and looked like he was only a second or two from hyperventalating. 

“Six fingers?” Dipper questioned. “Now that’s a fascinating anomaly.” Ford grew even paler and swayed. Stan shuffled next to him to support him in case he did actually pass out. He’d normally deck someone for a comment like that but Dipper’s voice had held a hint of wonder in it and not judgement. 

Dipper turned towards him and offered his hand. Stan accepted the hand and gave it a hard shake. It was a glove covered hand but that didn’t bother him. 

The man looked a lot like Mabel. Exactly like Mabel but more masculine. He also had several scars she didn’t have. Still, it was a nice face and he liked it a lot. He was wearing a ragged blue hat made of yarn that looked like it had been heavily patched. He had on a black sweater, several utility belts, and a dark jacket. There was a futuristic looking gun on his hip that Stan instantly wanted.

“I’m Stanley Pines and this is my twin Stanford pines.”

Dipper stood up abruptly. “Pines?” He turned to Mabel expectantly. 

“Shermie’s grandkids.” 

“I’m an Uncle?”

“Great uncle. Grunkle.” Mabel corrected herself. She looked pleased and didn’t seem to notice the blood or tears that covered her face.

“Are you really the author of the journals?” Ford rushed suddenly. He wheezed and slumped against Stan. Stan wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

Dipper turned back to him and nodded as his eyebrow raised. “Yes. Have you read my journals?”

“Read them?” Ford squeaked. “I’ve  _ lived _ them! We’ve found so many creatures and anomalies and -” his breath caught in his throat and he made a strangled noise. Stan took most of his weight and gripped his hand. He did well with a little pressure to ground him when he got too excited.

Dipper frowned and turned to Mabel. “There’ll be time for an explanation later. Are there any security breaches? Does anyone else know about this portal?”

Mabel nodded like it wasn’t a big deal. “Yeah. Candy, Grenda, Fiddleford, and probably the entire government at this point.”

“What?!” Dipper rushed to an archaic looking computer on the other side of the room and punched a few buttons. A screen flickered to life and showed Agents moving about upstairs.

Dipper sighed heavily and slumped against the control panel. “Of course. Why not.”

Mabel shuffled closer with a worried frown. 

“It’s okay. We’ve got a while before they find this room…” Dipper brought his hand to his head and rubbed his temple. “We just need to think of a plan.” He closed his eyes and seemed to be trying to do just that.

“Uh,” Stan asked to the quiet room, “can we get a bit of a backstory over here? Like what’s going on? Who is he? Why didn’t you tell us about him? Why is there a giant portal down here?”

Mabel laughed. “I’d have thought Ford’d be the first to ask. I’m cool with giving my mysterious backstory.” She looked at her brother but he made no move to stop thinking. 

“Settle down and get comfy, kids. This is going to be a long one.”

They did. Stan held on to Ford’s hand to help ground him and make certain he didn’t get away. There was a strange nervousness settling over him. It was building into a thick lump in his throat. Mabel had never mentioned her brother. What horrible thing had happened?

Mabel moved Dipper to the only chair in the room. She sat him down on it and didn’t seem to mind too much that he wasn’t paying attention. She passed the twins a knit blanket to share and wrapped one around Dipper’s shoulders as well. He didn’t move until she reached up to take his hat off. His hand shot up and caught her by the wrist. His eyes popped open and met hers with a worried look. 

“I’m not going to hurt it, Dip-dop.” She brushed her free hand against his cheek. “I just wanted to see how the stitches are doing. Can’t believe it’s lasted this long. More than forty years old at this point, isn’t it?”

He nodded and released her wrist. She investigated the hat and seemed satisfied with what she saw.

“Okay,” she turned back to the twins and sat down next to Dipper on the floor. “Backstory time. Gees. It all started at a park in California, roughly a million years ago by your standards. 1960 something or other.”

* * *

Mabel had never run so fast in her life. She was  _ finally _ out running Dipper and she’d eat his gym sock if she let him beat her now. The park was about fifty feet away. She’d beat him. She’d finally beat him!

She tripped at the finish and practically flung herself into the swing. It caught her and she landed on the seat with her stomach. Dipper slid into his swing a moment later and laughed. Mabel righted herself and pumped her fist into the air.

“Yes!” She shouted. “Eat my dust, bro-bro! I am the alpha twin! Taller and faster!”

“Shut up,” Dipper laughed. He shoved her swing and she nearly fell out. That made her laugh and hold on. 

“We can’t all be slow, little bro.”

“You’re only older by five minutes.” he muttered as he pulled off his back pack. He shuffled around in the main pouch until he found his notebook and the magazine he’d tucked into it. He pulled the well worn magazine out and smiled as he flipped through the glossy pages. He stopped on the story about their home town.

Mabel honestly couldn’t have cared less about the supernatural magazine and it’s weird articles. She loved Dipper though and he loved this weird stuff. That’s why they were at this old park with too many supplies on a saturday that she could have spent at the skating rink with Candy and Grenda. 

“That the article?” She finally asked when it was clear that Dipper was fine with just rereading the entire thing. 

He nodded his head eagerly. ‘’Yep!” He turned the page to show a map of their city. “It says the Dark Watchers were reported here!” He tapped the starred location as he gushed eagerly. He’d put on his lucky baseball hat for the occasion and had brought every bit of monster hunting gear he owned in his backpack. He’d made Mabel carry a fair amount as well. That stuff was heavy.

They got off the swings and started towards the abandoned school. This place was creepy with a capital C. Not that she minded. Dipper would take care of anything bad.

They wander through the rest of the playground and right up to the school house. The main door had been locked with a padlock. Dipper investigated it with a frown. Mabel gave him a few minutes to examine the lock while she looked at the windows. The creatures had been spotted inside the school building. This monster hunt would be short if they couldn’t get inside. 

She risked a glance around and didn’t see anyone so she decided to take matters into her own hands. It was what Grenda would do and since the muscular girl wasn’t here Mabel owed it to her to represent.

She took the book on different monster types that Dipper had put in her backpack and threw it at the nearest window. There was a loud sound of shattering glass as the book destroyed the window. Dipper jumped a few feet into the air and turned towards her with wild and wide eyes.

“What are you doing?”

Mabel used her jacket to knock some of the glass off the window seal. She smiled at her brother.

“I’m getting in.”

Dipper stuttered something about laws and vandalism but followed her inside. It was colder inside than it should have been for the warm summer day. Mabel shivered and shuffled closer to Dipper. He pulled a flashlight out of his backpack and turned it on. He shone the light on the graffiti covered walls and started forward. Mabel promptly followed.

The school was damp as well as cold. It had a musty smell Mabel didn’t like and she could hear things rustling about, sometimes in the very walls. They didn’t sound like cute animals either. They sounded like the creepy crawly type of bug. Dipper didn’t seem to hear it. He was too focused on the shadows and finding his creature. Mabel was certain the whole thing was a lot of hogwash-

There was a bang sort of sound like something heavy falling on something. Dipper darted towards it and Mabel followed. Her heart rose to her throat as they turned the corner. Down the long, empty corridor a shadowy shape was running. 

“That’s HIM!” Dipper blurted far too loudly. Her moronic brother then booked it towards the shadowy figure.

The thing, whatever it was, was clearly not human. It wasn’t shadowy in the way a person is when they’re hiding from the light. It was basically a shadow that was 3D. Mabel, who had fewer self preservation instincts than a typical twelve year old, knew that was not a smart move. However, she was ride or die when it came to Dipper so she too charged after the shadow thing.

The hallway got darker as they ran down until she was certain it couldn’t get any darker. Dipper’s light didn’t seem to be doing anything against it. 

“Dipper, wait!” 

Her brother ignored her call and plunged further into the darkness. Mabel, her heart pounding, hesitated. Every instinct in her was telling her to stop. There was something  _ bad _ ahead and she couldn’t go through it. 

But… leaving Dipper was an even worse thought. She couldn’t go back without him. She ran forward and skidded straight into her brother as he stopped. He was panting heavily and his flashlight was beaming on not one, but  _ three _ of the shadow creatures. 

“You’re real!” Dipper gasped. The nearest figure tilted what was probably it’s head. A moment passed and then it nodded. “You can understand us?”

The shadowy figure nodded again. 

Dipper wheezed with excitement. “I have so many questions!” 

* * *

“That was the start of it all.” Mabel hummed to herself. She had brought out her needles and a bundle of yarn while she told them the story and was already well on her way to making a sweater. She’d chosen a rich, blue color yarn and was clicking her needles along quickly. “Dipper had always been fascinated by the strange and paranormal but now there was actual proof of them. Tommy and Tiffany were nice enough but Tammy was a jerk.”

“The Dark Watchers.” Dipper clarified. He kept his eyes closed but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. His posture still screamed ‘stressed’ though. 

Stanley shuffled closer to Ford who had let go of his hand. He now had his arms wrapped around his legs.

“Yeah, the ‘Dark Watchers.’” Her needles clicked faster for a moment before she took a steadying breath. “Anyway. Those were the best times. Me, Dip-Dop, Candy, and Grenda would hunt for other supernatural creatures and we even found a few. Not many, but enough to keep us going. We were all a couple of oddballs but we were together and that was what mattered.” She leveled a gaze at her nephews and smiled wetly. “The world will judge you for not having a lot of friends but, when push comes to shove, you only need a few. We might have gone on that way forever but…”

“Senior year happened.” Dipper spoke up. His eyes opened and the smile faded almost entirely. “We had big plans for our future careers and everything seemed possible.” He fiddled with the sleeve of his coat in a move that made Stan think of Mabel. “I was going to get a degree in film and zoology. Mabel was getting a degree in animation. We planned to make films on the supernatural stuff we had discovered.”

* * *

Dipper flipped through the pages of the college pamphlet before discarding it with a bored sigh. He already knew where he was going and didn’t really see a point in continuing the research. He’d been accepted and Mabel would be in the same city. It was perfect. 

“Dip-Dop!” Mabel burst into his room with a shout and a burst of confetti. He blinked stupidly as she danced towards him with two noisemakers. 

“What’s the occasion?”

“Grenda got accepted! We’re going to have a celebration dinner! Come  _ on! _ ” She grabbed his arm and tugged him up. He allowed her to man-handle him out of the chair. “We’re going to ‘What you Knead’ for a pizza. Candy’s paying but we need a ride.”

“But we have graduation tomorrow.”

Mabel rolled her eyes. “Come off it, Bro-bro. We’re not going to some raging party. It’ll just be the four of us, pizza, and probably a movie.” She pulled on his arm and gave him her puppy dog eyes. “Come on, please?”

“I was planning on studying for a few hours and then heading down to the park to see if Tommy was back.”

Mabel let go of his arm and went to sit on the bed. “Dipper, you know he hasn’t been around since they demolished the building.” 

Dipper hesitated before joining her. “I know but… I don’t know. I don’t have a lot of opportunities left. We’re leaving at the end of summer.”

Mabel bit her lip and fiddled with the end of her sweater. “Are you sure you’re going to come and see me every day?” 

“Well, you’re going to come see me every other day, right?” He bumped her shoulder with his. “It’s only fair after all.”

She nodded her head emphatically. “Of course! I’ll hunt you down though I already know you’ll be in the library or the video lab. You nerd.”

He grinned and felt something loosen a little in his chest. A worry he hadn’t really been aware of. “Like you won’t be in the studio at all hours working on some project.”

“Oh I plan on camping out there. I’ve already got a tent and I am gifted at snack smuggling.”

“Getting Grenda to threaten people isn’t smuggling.”

Mabel shrugged. “I use what I’ve got.” She bumped his shoulder and smiled at him. She had her hair teased out and was wearing an oversized sweater with a dancing dog on the front. “Oh!” She exclaimed, “I almost forgot, I finished this for you.” She pulled a dark blue bundle out of her pocket and shoved it at him. He took it and smoothed out the soft yarn. It was a beanie with the big dipper stitched in gold on the front. She’d added a tag with wash instructions to the inside and had stitched a tiny shooting star on it. It was from her favorite sweater as a kid. “I know you’ve outgrown your old one.” She explained. Dipper put the hat on his head felt his shoulders relax a little as it covered his birthmark. 

He went to the restaurant with Mabel and ate way too much pizza. They went to the bowling rink afterwards. They spent entirely too much money trying to beat Grenda who could just hurl the balls into a strike. She won by a landslide with Dipper and Candy tying for second. Mabel had been far more interested in flirting with the boy in the next lane than winning the competition. 

They went home, hugged their parents, and fell asleep. They got up early the next morning and went to their school. They then stood around in their fancy clothes and graduation robes for what felt like centuries before the ceremony officially began. 

They took their seats next to each other and scanned what they could see of the crowd.

He couldn’t find his parents.

He tried to focus on the speeches but he didn’t care. His parents didn’t seem to be here. Mabel waited until the last speech to mention that she also didn’t see them.

They walked across the stage and got their diplomas. They sat through the rest of the names and finished the ceremony. 

They climbed off the stage, hugged their friends, and looked through the crowd.

Their parents weren’t there.

* * *

“We didn’t know it until that evening when the cops showed up but they had been in a car accident on the way to the ceremony.” Dipper explained. “I-I don’t remember much of that summer. There was a lot of confusion over what would happen with us. I had scholarships so my college was taken care of. Mabel was able to use the life insurance.” He swallowed and blinked. 

“We left for college right before our birthday.” Mabel said softly. She was staring down at her knitting and Stan knew he wasn’t mistaking the tears falling on her partially made sweater. Dipper had to leave before I did.”

“Yeah.” He blinked and frowned. His head turned towards her. “What happened to you that night? I never found out. You just disappeared.”

She glanced at him and paused in her knitting. “I told you I was going to the park.” She swallowed and a tear splashed down her cheek. “All night. I-Candy found me the next morning.”

“Oh.” He huffed out a tired sigh. “I remember now.” He laughed though there was no humor in it. “That explains Grenda…” He wrapped his arms around his chest. “I just… couldn’t. I had to take care of myself.” 

“We went to college.” Mabel forcibly continued. She sat straighter and started to knit faster. Her silver needles were a blur. “Dipper went to West Coast Tech and I went to Cal Arts. Candy and Grenda went with us. That’s where Grenda met her baron. They’re still married by the way. They have grandkids now. Lucius and Grenda junior.” A little of the sadness seemed to wash away. “They’re some of the cutest toddlers you ever saw.”

“Grandkids?” Dipper asked. He looked a little lost. 

“I’ll show you a picture when we go upstairs.” She shook her head and flipped her knitting around. “Anyway, I got my art degree and started doing a little animation. Candy got a degree in Computer Science which was barely anything at that point. Grenda got one in Phys Ed because she could. After graduation, Candy and I got a job at a little studio. My life got kinda dull for the next what, eight? Years. Oh! I forgot, Shermie got married in there.” She paused and started to laugh loudly. It was contagious sound that made the twins grin. Dipper’s expression softened until he was smiling as well. She finally managed to catch her breath and control her laugh. 

“I just about told you he had grandkids.” She motioned to the twins with a large, happy, adoring grin, “But duh!” She winked at Stan and Ford. 

“Yeah,” Dipper said with a small shake of his head. “Duh.” He sat still for a moment while the sound of Mabel’s laughter faded from the air. “I graduated top of my class and spent the next few years getting all twelve of my phds. I was given a research Grant to study anomalies and the supernatural while I did so.”

“One for each star on your nerdy head.” Mabel said with a fond little shake of her head.

Dipper blushed. Stan couldn’t help but notice Ford looked thoughtful. He could so see his nerdy twin earning twelve phds. One for each finger.

What worried him was what wasn’t being said. What had happened to their plan? Why had Mabel gotten a job at an art studio and not gone with Dipper? What did he mean by ‘take care of himself?’ 

What about the plan he had with Ford? What about their future and the Stan ‘O War?

He suddenly wanted to latch onto Ford’s arm and not let go. 

“What happened next?” Stan interrupted. Ford gave him a look and seemed to only just notice how close he was sitting. He frowned and tilted his head. Stan avoided his eye contact. Ford would see he was upset and press him for more info. He didn’t feel like having that conversation now or ever. 

Dipper continued, “Yes. Anyway. I… Oh. I discovered that Gravity Falls is basically the weirdness capital of this planet. I built this house here and set to work using my grant money to investigate the strange properties of this town. I began to investigate at once.” He patted the Journal in his pocket. “I knew I'd have to record my findings. I began to keep a journal…” 

Ford made a strangled noise of excitement next to him. Stan pat him discreetly on the back until he was breathing normally again. Dipper was side-eyeing them but trying not to look like he was. Mabel was focused on her knitting. 

“There were anomalies everywhere. And the more I looked, the more I saw.” Dipper smiled and sat straighter. “I became interested in what was causing it. I’d seen some anomalies in California but nothing like Gravity Falls. No where else in the world seemed to have as much weirdness in it. It seemed like the answer was outside our world. It seemed like a dimension of weirdness was leaking into ours. I realized the only way to understand Gravity Falls would be to build a gateway: a portal to the source of its weirdness.”

Stan’s eyes traveled to the giant and broken portal behind them. He had a feeling he knew where this was heading. 

“It took me most of a year before I was ready to perform a few tests but I couldn’t do it by myself. I needed help. I… I was paranoid about being watched. I hid my journals so that no one could replicate my research. I needed someone I could trust to help me finish it.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. 

Mabel looked up. There was a haunted look in her eyes Stan had seen on a few occasions. Mostly in connection to the woods or one of them being harmed/lost. His gut clenched and he had to force himself to keep his hand in his lap. He really wanted to grab a hold of Ford.

“I came right away.” She said shortly. The uh… the test didn’t go well.”

Dipper was hard core avoiding eye contact now. Stan recognized the evasive gaze.

* * *

Dipper rushed to his sister and picked her up from where she was convulsing on the ground. Her bright purple sweater was coated in some strange gunk that smelled terrible. Her pupils were dilated and she didn’t seem to see him at all.

“Mabel!” He gasped as he tugged her upper body into his lap. She gasped violently.

“VOTMZRIG IVSKRX OORY.” She sputtered as she spoke and her entire body convulsed once more. Dipper pulled her closer in his confusion.

“What? Mabel! You’re not making any sense!” The portal was still glowing in front of him. It was bathing Mabel it’s multi-colored light so that every inch of her pained face was visible. 

“When Gravity Falls and earth becomes sky, fear the beast with just one eye.” She spoke in a stilted voice without seeing him. She shuddered once more and sucked in a long breath. She blinked and her eyes, wide with panic, found his. “Dipper!” She gasped.

“What are you talking about?”

“We-” she clutched the front of his sweater and hauled herself upright. “We have to stop him! We’ve got to destroy this thing!” She was trembling and gripping his sweater so tightly that her knuckles were white. 

“What are you talking about? We can’t destroy it! It’s my life work.”

Mabel released him and scrambled to her feet. She was still trembling. “Dipper, listen to me.” her voice was shaking and too high. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen her so frightened. “That thing is going to destroy the world. That-” she swallowed and closed her eyes. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “We have to get rid of it and all the evidence for it. Your journal too.”

“No!” He didn’t mean to shout and even had the grace to feel a little guilty when Mabel jumped. She took a step back from him before jerking away when she realized that put her nearer the portal. “This is my life’s work! This is  _ everything!” _

“Listen to me!” Mabel shouted back. Her voice was hoarse with fear. “We have to destroy it all!”

“No! I won’t let you do that!”

Mabel ran towards the control panel. She picked up a wrench from the ground and began to bang on it. Dipper yelped and ran after her.

He wasn’t sure who threw the first punch. The next thing he was aware of was that they were both on the floor fighting over the wrench. Mabel was wild with fear. He’d seen a lot of animals fighting for their life and she felt like that. It was all he could do to toss the wrench away from her. Mabel scrambled after it desperately. He got to his own feet and chased after her. Mabel shoved him back and he tripped over a cord. He went sprawling backwards and should have landed on the dirt floor. Instead he found himself not falling but floating. 

“Dipper!” Mabel noticed his predicament when an unbidden scream left his lips. He was caught in the gravitational pull of the portal. It was sucking him in. 

“Mabel!”

“What do I do?” She rushed towards him but she was too slow. 

“Mabel!” He shrieked again. “Do something! Help me!” He flung the journal at her and watched it pelt her in the chest as the bright light surrounded him. 

“DIPPER!”

* * *

“I'd lost him. I didn't know if he was dead or alive in…  _ that place _ in some distant galaxy, but I knew his journal must have the answer to getting him back. Somehow.” She swallowed and fiddled with her knitting. “I didn't get much sleep that night. Or the night after that. I tried for weeks to turn that dumb machine back on. But without the other two journals it was hopeless.” She looked up and let her gaze fall on Stan and Ford. She tried to smile comfortingly at them but it didn’t help. It was hard to breathe. Stan needed to grab hold of Ford but his brother had shuffled closer to Dipper and didn’t notice Stan was unhappy. 

“I figured out pretty quickly that I needed a plan. Thankfully my brother wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. The house was full of weird stuff and the folks in town were nothing if not curious about it. I needed cash, quickly, so I gave them a paid tour of the oddities Dip-dop had collected. The Mystery Shack kind of just… happened out of that.”

She sighed and smiled but it still wasn’t a real smile. “I called Candy and Grenda. They had no clue what to do either. Grenda had obligations and couldn’t leave but Candy moved out here to help. I ran the Mystery Shack during the day and I spent my nights down here. No one was researching the nerdy stuff my bro had discovered at that time and if they were, they weren’t publishing a lot of work on it. It was slow going.” She huffed with remembered annoyance. “I had to be careful because I couldn’t risk anyone finding out about the portal. I couldn’t even trust your parents.” She gave them an apologetic look. Stan didn’t blame her. He wouldn’t have trusted them with Ford’s fate if the roles had been reversed. 

She opened her mouth to continue talking when there was a crackle of static from the monitor Dipper had been fiddling with earlier.

“There are voices coming from below. There must be a basement!”

“I totally forgot about them!” Mabel gasped. Dipper was frowning and staring at the monitor. Ford jumped beside Stanley and pulled off his backpack. He tore it open and started pulling out all the random junk he kept inside. 

“Forget!” He exclaimed. He pulled out the Memory Gun and shoved it towards Dipper. “This is a memory erasing gun! Do you think it could work? If you could-”

“Widen it’s range of effect I could… That might work.” He hopped out of the chair and took the gun up. He fiddled with the dial. A moment later he shoved it into some kind of device. 

“Mabel, turn on that regulator.”

“The what?”

Dipper pointed impatiently. Mabel got up and went to the switch and flipped it. She raised an unamused eyebrow at her twin. "I feel like now would be a good time to remind you that I was an art major. No phds in this corner Mr. I got twelve phds 'cause that's not extremely pompous."

"I needed them." Dipper retorted. It sounded like an argument they'd had a lot. One that was more of a joke than anything else. He continued to fiddle with dials.

"Regardless, I feel like you should be really impressed that I got the portal working and not judge me for not knowing this was a regulator. This was the most absurdly sciency thing I've ever done. I had to read books on theoretical and nuclear physics, Dipper. Theoretical. And. Nuclear. Physics."

He laughed but it sounded hollow. There was something in his eyes that didn’t look happy. "I'm proud of you. I did leave you instructions though." He fiddled with the dials a little more.

"Instructions you hid. I only got the other two journals this summer. I only learned they had invisible ink," She gave Dipper an accusing look and he had the good graces to look abashed, "this past month." She paused and tilted her head. "It's August 5th, by the way. 2012." Dipper's hands stilled on the knob.

"That long, huh?" Mabel nodded her head. Tears started to streak down her cheeks again.

Dipper noticed the tears and frowned. He turned his gaze to the monitor and glared. 

He pulled the trigger on the memory gun and ran towards the elevator. Mabel bolted after him and the twins followed. They all clambered into the elevator together. Dipper took his hat off and shoved it in his pocket. He straightened his jacket and buttoned it up so his ragged sweater couldn’t be seen.

\-------------------

Their grunkle had somehow convinced the group of agents that he was their commander. He’d gotten the flash drive from them and destroyed all the data. They’d had a really awkward dinner and been sent up to bed after being made to take a bath. They were in the attic now sitting on their beds. Stan was laying down and staring at the ceiling. 

Ford was sitting on his bed with a bandaid on his cheek practically radiating indignation.

“How can you just fall asleep?! We got arrested by government agents! We caused a car crash! We-“

Stan cut him off. “And somehow that’s the most normal thing that’s happened to us while we’ve been here.”

“We have a secret uncle!”

“Pretty sure grandpa mentioned him once. I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“WHAT?”

Stan laughed. He rolled over on his side to face his brother. Ford was sitting up and holding a pillow to his chest. He looked like he was going to hurl it at Stan.

“To be fair, Grandpa could have ten siblings and I wouldn’t know. I never asked, ya know?” He shrugged as much as he could while lying down. “But one day I was talkin’ ‘bout somethin’ and he said something about his younger brother enjoying it.” He huffed out a breath. He couldn’t remember anymore of the conversation as annoying as that was.

“Why didn’t anyone tell us twins run in the family?” Ford hugged the pillow and dropped his head on it. He looked so sad that Stan got up. He went to his brother and climbed up next to him. He draped his arm around him. Ford leaned into his hold.

“’Cause they’re all idiots.” He sighed. “I don’t know what to tell ya. But… You’re right. Family shouldn’t keep secrets from family.”

That wasn’t what was bothering Stan. He didn’t really care about the secrets. Well. He cared a lot about the secrets because, hello, they had a Grunkle. Mabel had a twin. There were secrets and then there were  _ secrets _ . Those kind of secrets meant people didn’t trust. It led to drawing lines in the sand. It led to broken trust, broken hearts, and years alone. 

It led to someone like Mabel. Someone who was warm and fun and always so heartbreakingly sad. 

He’d pretty much spent the last four hours terrified. Hell, that was too stingy. He’d spent the last day terrified. He’d woken up worried and passed that with flying colors before lunch. 

Now he felt… dread. A cold ache in his stomach that made him shivery. It was a terrible knowing that was crushing around him. If someone like Mabel could lose her twin, what was stopping someone like him from losing Ford?

He was a much bigger screw up than Mabel had ever been. 

“I just don’t understand.” Ford murmured mournfully into his shoulder. Stan sighed and held him tighter.

He didn’t particularly want to let him go. 


	20. Dungeons Dungeons and More Dungeons: There Are No Cops In The Forest

Stan was, in a nutshell, terrified. Ford was once again chasing after the new and strange Dipper pines.

They were  _ supposed _ to go to the library today and trade out Ford’s books. They were then  _ supposed  _ to go to Greasey’s for lunch with Soos, Wendy, Fiddsy, and Susan. After that they were going to try and get a picture of the weird candy monster that had been eating out of the theater’s trash. 

Instead Ford was chasing after Dipper and begging to help him with some weird outer space squid (or was it an octopus?) creature.

Stan felt like his heart was in his throat. He couldn’t speak around it and could barely breathe. 

Mabel had been separated from Dipper for thirty years and now the old man was trying to take Ford. 

Mabel passed him a cup of chocolate milk and ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry, pumpkin. He won’t let Ford hang around. He’s paranoid with a capital P.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Her voice sounded confident but her eyes were not. 

She was right though. Less than five minutes later a dejected Ford was walking back towards the kitchen table. 

“Why won’t he let me help?” He complained to Stan. “I know  _ so _ much about this town! Things might have changed in thirty years.”

“Ford, I want to talk about that.” Mabel set a glass of chocolate milk in front of Ford and set her hand on Stan’s chair. She looked like she was trying to gather strength for whatever she wanted to say. “I am so happy that you like Dip-dop - because he’s pretty great - but I don’t want you hanging with him when he’s working. The stuff… What he’s working with is crazy dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt by any of it or getting into trouble. ‘Kay?”

“It’s not like he’d even let me help.” Ford sighed. He took a long sip of his chocolate milk. He hadn’t looked at Stan yet. 

“That wasn’t an agreement or a promise.” Mabel stated. It was a good thing she did because Stan had nearly said the same thing. He didn’t want Ford hanging out too much with Dipper. They’d go off to a nerdy science land that Stan couldn’t follow or understand. Stan would get left behind. 

He clutched his empty glass and dropped his gaze to the tiny ring of milk left in the bottom of the glass. 

“I promise.” Stan’s fingers twitched on the glass. He could hear the lie in Ford’s voice. If he looked he was sure he’d see that at least one hand wasn’t on the table. His brother’s fingers would be crossed.

“Thank you. Finish your milk and you two can head off to the library. I have a few books I need returned that you can drop off with yours.”

Stan nodded compliantly. Mabel wandered out of the room. Ford practically guzzled his milk down. He looked miserable. Stan spoke before he quite realized his mouth was moving.

“Give him a day or two, Sixer. He’ll realize what a brainiac you are and ask for help.” He so hoped that wasn’t true. “He might even read all your notes in the journal.” Hopefully he thought Stan’s were Ford’s as well. Maybe he’d think Ford was dumb and that would stop him from letting Ford help. After all, it was supposed to be Stan and Ford. Not Ford and Dipper.

Stan pushed his chair back from the table and hopped up. “C’mon, Sixer.” Ford sighed dramatically and slipped out of his chair. He went to the counter and grabbed his books. Stan followed him out of the house. He got about two hundred feet when he realized the obvious.

“Shoot! I forgot Mabel’s books. Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Ford sighed with annoyance and leaned against the nearest tree. 

Stan rushed back to the house and into the living room. He scooped up the books on the table and started towards the door. He paused after a step as he realized he could hear Mabel and Dipper. Their voices were raised and they were coming towards him. The obvious thing to do was to leave the room. Stan chose to duck behind the TV cabinet instead.

The door to the kitchen swung open and Dipper stormed in with an armful of beakers and chemical vials. Mabel stomped after him. He spread his equipment out on the coffee table and glared at Mabel.

“I  _ really _ don’t have time for this, Mabel.”

“Damn it, Dipper! Let me HELP!” She slammed the door shut. Stan jumped and tried to shove himself further behind the cabinet. “Why won’t you stop? You. Are. Not. Alone! You utter blockhead!” She pushed herself away from the doorway and stalked towards her twin. His eyes were wide and Stan didn’t blame him. Mabel looked furious. Angrier than when she’d punched a zombie in the face. “What would you have done if this had been reversed? Huh? What would you have done if  _ I  _ had fallen in that damned portal?”

“I’d have found you.” 

“I know that, Mason.” Grunkle Dipper winced. It took Stan a few moments to realize that Dipper was probably a nickname. “It probably wouldn’t have taken as long either. Sorry, I did the best I could.” She huffed and shook her head. Dipper looked like he wanted to interject but she didn’t give him a chance. “The point is you would have tried to do it all alone like you try to do everything!”

“You did it alone.” He spat the words at her and Mabel poked him in the chest aggressively. 

“No, I didn’t. I had Candy from the start. Grenda helped whenever she could. Mostly with money. She didn’t know everything but she knew enough. They helped me for years. When it got rough I found Fiddsy, Wendy, and Soos. I made myself a small family. It wasn’t much but I wasn’t alone. It might have felt damn hopeless and like I was alone in the fight but I wasn’t. They were only ever a phone call away. And those boys,” She pointed towards the hallway that led to the stairs, “are the best thing that have happened to me in nearly thirty years. I was there the night they were born. I held them in my arms and lost my heart to them. I didn’t realize I had any of it left after I lost you.” She shook her head with tears in her eyes and on her cheeks. “I never got it back. I didn’t need to. They’ve kept it safe for me. They are crazy and so much trouble.” She laughed too loudly. It sounded more hurt than happy. “Seriously. You wouldn’t believe the stories they could tell. They raised the dead one night. We had a hundred zombies storming this place but I don’t care. I love them and I will die before I let them get hurt by something in this crazy town or another dimension. I will do whatever it takes to help. So let me. Help.” 

“That’s obvious.” Dipper said dismissively. He shoved her hand off his chest and walked to the table. He set about righting the fallen flasks. “I’ve been working alone for forty years. I started this and I can finish this.” 

“Right.” Mabel stepped back. Dipper wasn’t facing her so he didn’t see the heartbreak on her face. Stan did. He’d seen her get physically hit by a weird assortment of creatures. He was pretty sure she’d never looked quite so injured. He had to force himself back against the wall to stop going over to her. He’d punched a Pteranodon for her. He’d gone on a date with Bud for crying out loud. Shoving Dipper wouldn’t even be hard. It might give him a chance at pick pocketing that futuristic gun. 

“I forgot.” She turned away and, in the smallest voice he’d ever heard her use whispered, “you work alone.”

Dipper lifted his head to see her leave. He watched the empty doorway for a few minutes before dropping into the seat. He covered his head with his hands and growled with irritation. Stan took the distraction and slipped out from the back of the cabinet. 

He was good at sneaking around silently. It was something you learned quickly with Filbrick pines as your father. He darted out of the living room and took a detour through the shop so they wouldn’t hear him leave out the front. 

He smiled at Ford a little shakily. “Got the books…”

Ford pushed off from the tree and looked at Stan properly or the first time since breakfast. He instantly frowned.

“What happened to you?”

Stan really wanted to hit something.

* * *

The day had been a bust. An utter bust. Dipper wouldn’t hang talk with him, Stan was quiet, Mabel was sad, and their friends had to cut their hangout short. 

They’d decided to buy some ice cream for after dinner (or before if they could swing it with Mabel) but the store had been closed which led to the two of them going to the mall. 

That was where the day took a better turn for Ford. Stan insisted on stopping by the toy store. Ford would have preferred the book shop but he followed Stan none the less. Stan went to the stuffed animals and started rooting through them while Ford wandered aimlessly.

That’s when he saw it. Dungeons. Dungeons. And. More. Dungeons.

He  _ loved _ that game! He had played three characters all the way to level thirty eight! He’d heard Fiddleford mention it once as well. Maybe he could get the inventor to play with him. Stan would play. Ford was certain he could sell it to him. 

He grabbed the starter kit along with an extra handbook. He met Stan at the checkout line. His brother had found a pink pig plushie and a box of scratch and sniff stickers. 

They bought their items and returned to the Shack. Mabel was finishing up with her last customer of the day. Stan went to give her the items he’d gotten her while Ford went to the living room. There were a few beakers on the table he hadn’t noticed before that smelled like they’d held formaldehyde. There was a suspicious green goo on one bottle. He was careful not to touch it. 

He plopped down on the floor and pulled out the pieces for the game. There were a few sheets he had to cut out of the book and he had to break into the package with the dice. He gave them a few test rolls and couldn’t stop a giddy grin.

“What’s that?” 

“Dungeons Dungeons and more Dungeons!” He gushed and looked up. Stan was standing a few feet away. He was eyeing the graph paper suspiciously. 

“That nerd game you play after school on Thursdays?”

Ford nodded his head. “Yeah, they had it at the store. I thought we could play.” He put his dice to the side and motioned for Stan to come over. Stan stepped over with a strange expression. It was almost pensive but also frightened. His twin chewed on his bottom lip and sank to the ground near him. He picked up one the dice before immediately setting it down again. 

“How do ya play?” 

Ford plucked the player handbook up. He passed it to his brother. 

“You’ll love it! The rules are actually fairly simple. First, you roll a 38 sided die to determine the level of each player’s statistical analysis poweroid. These orbs relate directly to the amount of quadrants that your team has dominion over, which is  _ inverse _ to the anti-quadrants in your quadrant satchel.”

Stan looked down at the book. He opened it up, squinted, and shut it again. 

“Is it like gambling?”

He nodded. “Yes!” Stan almost smiled. Ford continued. “and no.” He shuffled through his papers until he found the graph paper. “Before we can do any of that we’ll have to make a graph-”

“Uh-uh! No homework, man. It’s summer.” He got up nervously and took a step back. “Isn’t there something else you’d like to play?”

“Come on, Stan! I need at least two people to play.” Stan’s eyes got wide. He opened and shut his mouth a few times. “Come on,” Ford tried again. “You can play a fighter. I’ll give you a sword and-”

“Stan!” Mabel’s voice came from the direction of the gift shop. “Can I get your help?”

“Coming, Graunty!” His brother jogged out of the room leaving Ford alone. He waited ten minutes before deciding his twin was not coming back. Typical.

He ended up wandering outside with his kit and sitting on the porch. It was a lovely day but it did little to lift his mood. Fiddleford had already left for the day so he couldn’t even try and entice the inventor into playing with him. 

Whonk!

Ford’s heart pounded and he gripped the game box to his chest. Waddles waddled towards him and nosed at his jacket pocket.

“No.” Ford huffed as he relaxed a little. The pig didn’t listen to the rebuff and just turned his attention to the game box. Ford set it to the far side and gave the pig a small push. Waddles just snorted and snuffled at his pocket again. He realized a moment too late what the pig was after. Waddles pulled away triumphantly right as Ford moved for him. 

“My 38 sided die!” He dove for the pig who squealed in fright and dropped the die. It rolled off the porch and under it. Ford, with nothing else to do, went after it. He crawled under the dark porch and towards a small window he’d never noticed. He reached for the die and closed his fingers around it’s smooth surface. He sat back as much as he could in the cramped quarters.

The ground beneath him gave way abruptly without any sort of warning. His shocked scream was buried by the sound of wood and dirt slamming into the room below him. He pushed himself up from the dirt with a cough and shook his head. He’d lost his glasses. It was dark in this (basement? lab? what was this?) room and he could hardly see anything. 

“What was that?” A deep, booming, annoyed voice echoed around the room. Ford patted around in the dark and felt his fingers brush the edge of his glasses. He grabbed them up and basically smashed them on his face.

Great Uncle Dipper was walking into the room with some jar in his hands and a scowl on his face. 

“Ford? What are you doing in here? I told Mabel I was not to be disturbed.” Ford scrambled to his feet. He tried to shove his dice in his pocket in sudden embarrassment. 

“Wait!” Dipper’s hand went towards his arm. “Is that a 38 sided die from Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons?”

Ford’s mouth popped open. The Author of the Journals played Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons?

He made an undignified noise as he vigorously nodded his head. “It is! You know the game?”

Dipper beamed and picked the die up from Ford’s open hand. “Indeed. It’s probably my favorite game in all the multiverse.” He turned it over in his hand and grinned all the larger. “With pen and paper, shield and sword…”

Ford could not have stopped himself from joining in. “Our quest shall be our sweet reward!”

Dipper laughed. “I can’t believe they still make this.”

“They do! I’ve been looking for somebody to play with me.” 

Dipper’s eyes glazed over. “You know what that means, right? I have to put everything I’ve been working on aside immediately so we can play.” He set the beaker down and grabbed Ford’s arm. “Come on, adventure awaits!”

* * *

“He’ll never see that coming. And then, ooh! I could put that there… Maybe add another… nah. I’ll put the flayer with the kobald..”

Stan groaned into his pillow and sat up. The alarm clock on their shared end table was flashing ‘3:28’ at him. What was  _ wrong _ with his brother? No one should be awake at this hour. 

“Ford. Knock it off. It’s too late for this nerd stuff.”

Ford -who was sprawled out on the floor with papers, pens, books, and graphs - looked up at Stan and blinked. He had a lantern on the floor beside him like it wasn’t obscenely bright. 

“Huh?”

“You don’t even hear yourself, do you?” He couldn’t help the laughter in his voice. He was exhausted but he still loved his brother and his dork self. He’d heard Ford carry on an entire conversation with himself and a text book multiple times. Usually arguing with it. 

“Oh.” Ford looked down at his book and fidgeted with his pen. “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“I’d of had to be asleep to wake up. What are you even doing?”

Ford’s expression instantly lit up. “I’m making a dungeon for Great Uncle Dipper! He’ll be stumped for certain!”

Stan, who had been feeling warm and tired, now felt something cold and heavy drop into his chest. He wrapped his arms around his chest under his covers and tried not to shiver. 

“You’re uh…” He swallowed. When had his throat gotten so dry? “playing with Dipper?”

Ford nodded gleefully. “I am. He’s exceptional, Stan! I knew the author was brilliant but I had no idea! He’s everything I wanted. I can talk to him, really talk to him. He understands me in a way I didn’t think was possible.”

Stan knew his brother didn’t meant to hurt him. He didn’t mean to make Stan feel stupid. However, that was exactly what he did.

“Glad you found someone else who speaks your nerd language.” He didn’t want to roll his eyes but he couldn’t quite stop himself. Ford noticed and frowned. He started fiddling with his graph paper again. He muttered something Stan couldn’t hear. Stan groaned and flopped back on his bed. He pulled the blanket over his head and tried to fall asleep.

It took a long time.

* * *

Stan could not find Ford anywhere. They had almost no time before the show started. He had completely forgotten that the season finale of Ducktective was happening tonight. They’d left with the Ducktective being shot by some unseen assailant. Mabel had gone all out on the snacks and invited Soos over. He’d come in costume which he’d called ‘florp’ing. He even had the word stamped on a bracelet.

He was heading upstairs when he heard a yelp from Mabel. Months of living in Gravity Falls had honed his reflexes. He didn’t even have to process the yelp before he was running back towards the living room.

He skidded to a stop and took in what was happening. Mabel had decorated the room in Ducktective memorabilia. She’d hung streamers and balloons as well as a massive banner. She’d spread a tablecloth on the floor for them to eat their snacks off of. The tablecloth had been bunched up and shoved in the corner. There was graph paper strewn everywhere, some sort of figurines, dice, pencils, and player sheets on the floor. A stack of books was sitting on a few broken balloons and the tv had been covered with a giant map. 

Mabel was standing in her duck hat with her arms loaded full of snacks. Soos had the drinks and they were both standing with their mouths agape. 

Ford and Dipper were in the middle of the chaos rambling about some nerd nonsense.

“Oh, why, why with this?” Stan demanded.

“Move out!” Mabel said vehemently. She stomped her foot and a few chips fell to the ground. 

“We were here first.” Dipper countered. He stood up and propped his hands on his hips. 

“We have to have the tv.” Mabel stepped fully into the living room. The chips crunched unnoticed under her feet. “Get out or watch with us.”

“You have no right to tell me where to go.” 

“We have to have the tv! We’re going to miss the beginning!”

“It’s a child’s tv show!”

“I'll have you know that Duck-tective has a big mystery element! And a lot of humor that goes over kids' heads!”

Stan decided to ignore the argument and go for the obvious. He went towards the tv to grab the map off it. Ford sprang up and grabbed his arm.

“Move that and pay the price.”

He rolled his eyes. He was still exhausted from last night. He didn’t have time for this nonsense. 

“Oh, what, fifty magical dwarf dollars?”

Ford glared. “Don't mock our fantastical monetary system!”

“We’ll mock all we want,” Mabel snapped. She turned on Dipper again. “it's my TV room!” 

DIpper stepped towards her and tried to make himself look big. “It's my  _ house _ , you…” He caught himself before he called her a name which was a good thing because Stan might have decked him. 

“Listen,” Dipper sighed, “did you ever think that you might actually have fun if you played with us?” 

For some reason Mabel seemed to take a  _ lot _ of offense at that. She dropped her snacks in the vacant chair and shoved Dipper.

“I will not-”

Something fell out of Dipper’s pocket. Dipper and Ford both yelped in horror as whatever the thing was rolled across the floor. There was a flash of bright light and suddenly some weird figure was standing in the middle of the room. He had what looked like an elf and some sort of eagle lion thing. There was a fourth thing that looked like an orc from the ring movies that Ford loved so much.

The central figure was dressed in black with a long beard. He glew with green magical light and had a staff. 

“Mortals of dimension 46'\,” the green wizard guy said. “kneel before me and,” he rolled a die, “snivel! I am Probabilitor! The greatest wizard in all of mathology! Give or take an error of 0.4.”

Soos looked up at Mabel. “Is this normal?” He whispered.

“I don’t suppose you’ve come to send us on a noble quest for being such exceptional players, have you?” Ford didn’t sound like he believed what he was saying. He looked really worried. Something in Stan’s stomach twisted. It was a familiar feeling. He needed to defend his brother from whatever was frightening him.

Probabilitor grinned and it was terrifying. “You  _ are _ the most exceptional players I've ever met! That's why I'm going to eat your brains to gain your intelligence.” Ford and Dipper both gasped. Probabilitor shrugged. “It's what I do.”

The orc thing nodded. “It's his thing.”

“What?” Soos demanded. 

Probabilitor pointed his staff at them. “Seize them!”

Dipper drew a gun from his holster before Stan could blink. “Your math is no match for my gun, you idiot!”

The wizard raised his arms. A green ray of numbers burst from his fingers and burst through the wall behind him.

He motioned for his followers. They sprang forward and grabbed Dipper and Ford. Stan’s hands shot forward but he was a second to let and he just got a handful of empty air.

“Now,” Probabilitor shouted, “to the forest, for the ultimate game!”

Stan sprang after them and stopped in the now missing wall. He could no longer see his brother or the monster things. There was just a hole in the trees where they’d blasted their way through.

“Oh my god!” Mabel shrieked. “What are we going to do?”

“Follow them!” Stan shouted back. He grabbed his bronze knuckles out of his pocket. Mabel followed his lead and grabbed a broom that was leaning against the wall. Soos grabbed the game box.

“We’re coming for you Dip-dop.”

“I’ll get you back, Ford. I promise.” 

* * *

They’d been taken to a clearing in the woods. They were bound with magic while Probabilitor examined them. This would have been close to a dream come true for Ford on a different day. Now it was just terrifying.

This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to the Author. Dipper was supposed to be untrappable. 

How had Mabel knocked the infinity die free? He hadn’t even realized Dipper had brought it upstairs. Everything had gone wrong. He’d forgotten that they were supposed to be watching the Ducktective season finale. He’d gotten so caught up in his game with Dipper that he’d forgotten everything.

Probabilitor laughed noisily and summoned a tape measure. He brought it up to Ford’s head and began to measure his head’s width.

“You know,” he said conversationally, “with each brain I eat I increase my enchantelligence!”

Dipper glowered at him. “If my hands were free I’d break your pointy nose.” 

Probabilitor ignored him. “The time has come! Hot Elf! Ready the brain-cooking pot!”

The elf sighed dramatically. He shot an arrow at the pot and it lit with fire as it flew through the air. The wood and kindling beneath the cauldron was lit. The ogre poured some water into the pot and sat on a log to watch it. The griffin sat on the ground and began to lick its paws like a giant cat. Probabilitor wandered towards the pot and began to pour spices into the water.

Ford had no idea how long it had been. His mind seemed to be working over time but he couldn’t think of any solution. 

“What do we do?” He whispered to his Great Uncle. Dipper shook his head.

“Stop thinking, Ford! The more wrinkly your brain gets, the more he'll want to eat it!”

Probabilitor turned towards them and smiled. “And now, a little math problem: when I subtract your brain from your skulls, add salt, and divide your family, what's the remainder?”

From behind the bushes there was a shout of “YOUR BUTT!!”

Probabilitor looked baffled. “What? My butt isn't part of this particular equation.”

From the bushes Mabel, Soos, and  _ Stan _ jumped out. His brother had on his bronze knuckles and was covered in leaves and dirt. He looked like he had run through a lot of trees. His hair was wild and he looked furious. 

Probabilitor started to glow bright green. “Drat! How did you make it past my one guard? Very well.” He considered the trio and smiled. “There's only one way your family can save you. YOU must defeat ME in Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons: REAL LIFE EDITION!” He waved his staff through the air and a giant gridded gameboard appeared. He cackled as the trio took a step back.

“What?” Stand demanded. Mabel groaned. 

Probabilitor continued like they hadn’t said anything. “I choose my characters…” He swung his staff through the air and two ogres appeared on the game board. “Verse your two characters.” He swung his staff towards them and a beam of green magic surrounded Ford and Dipper. A weird, floaty, feeling filled his chest and he felt like he did when he was hit with the crystal flashlight. A moment later he was small and on Probabilitor’s hand. He felt  _ weird _ .

Dipper was feeling his head. “My ears are pointy!” He gasped. Ford felt his own ears. They were the same. He also felt like he was shorter than he had been. Well, shorter next to Dipper. A glance down showed he was wearing some sort of tunic (it didn’t feel like he had anything on underneath it) and his feet were much bigger.

Had he turned into a halfling? Dipper looked like an elf. 

“Why can’t we box or something?” Stan gruffed as he strode towards the board game. Probabilitor huffed.

“Come on, this game is a lot of fun!” the wizard lifted a brown bag. “I even had my mom pack a lunch.” He opened it up and muttered to himself as he looked inside. Ford stopped paying attention as he was transported through the air and onto the board. The ogres were big. Really,  _ really, _ big. 

“Stop your yapping.” Stan sat down and pulled out a stick of gum with a bored manner. “just make with the rules, ugly.”

“The game is a battle royale. We help our team by casting spells determined by rolls of the dice. If you win, I'll go back to my own dimension.” Mabel clapped happily. “But if I win, I eat their brains.”

That didn’t seem like a particularly fair trade.

Stan shoved his hand forward. “Deal!”

Oh god. He was going to get his brain eaten.

Probabilitor rolled his dice and Ford screamed. Dipper grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the way as the ogres charged them. 

“What do we do? What do we do?!” He was vaguely aware of his brother’s panicking voice. He could hardly think through his own panic but he had to help. 

“You make it up!” He yelled as loudly as he could. His words sounded annoyingly squeaky. 

“Really?”

“Yes! I tried to explain it. You use math, yeah, but it’s a lot of risk and imagination! Like gambling!”

“Imagination?” Mabel asked at the same moment Stan said, “Risk?” Mabel snatched up the dice and rolled them. He couldn’t hear what she shouted but a moment later he was suddenly bouncing through the air on weird boots. 

Stan shouted something back as the ogres attacked again. They bounced to the far end of the board as a giant shield appeared in front of them. 

The ogres battered into the shield and bounced off of it. The shield shimmered with green magic and dissipated.

“Flamey sword!” Stan shouted. Ford found himself gripping a shimmering, burning, blade in his right hand. It grew hotter as he bounced his way towards the nearest ogre. He brought it around in a large arc and sliced through the ogre. It disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

“No!” Probabilitor shrieked. “Drat you! Fine! I was saving the worst for last!”

Ford screamed as the Impossibeast appeared. He’d had a nightmare about facing one once. It had killed his party and even Stan. He’d been dragged from his brother’s broken body as the creature started to devour him. 

It was a distorted, horrifying creature that should exist. 

The monstrosity wrapped them in it’s clawed hands and flew towards one of the walls. It pinned them both against it and leaned in close.

“What’s going on?” Mabel demanded.

“It’s the most powerful monster in the game!” Dipper explained, “You can only defeat it by rolling a perfect 38!” 

“The odds of that are-” Ford began automatically. Stan cut him off as he snatched the die up.

“Hey,” he said with laughter in his voice, “long odds are the best odds!” He shook the die and brought it up close to his mouth to blow on it like that could possibly make a difference. “Come on! Stanley needs a new pair of TWINS!” He rolled the dice onto the board. It seemed to move in low motion, ticking through the numbers until it landed on 38. It rocked ominously around but stayed at 38.

“Ha!” His twin roared as Probabilitor shrieked in denial. “your math is no match for dumb luck!”

Mabel beamed. “I cast Death MUFFINS!” Two cupcake looking muffins appeared in their hands with candles sticking out of it. They hurled them into the monsters mouth and it exploded.

* * *

Stan was careful to hide the die. He didn’t want his brother to know he had cheated. He wasn’t about to risk his twins life to something like a die roll. There were some things you never gambled with.

He still wasn’t sure what had just happened. One second they’d been arguing the next second they were trying to save their twins from being killed by a psycho wizard. 

He might have killed an ogre. Not that there was anyone to tell on them. What happened in the forest would stay in the forest.

“Hey,” Ford had walked up to him at some point when he wasn’t paying attention. His twin was back in his normal outfit with slightly mussed hair. There was no evidence that he’d just been a hobbit. 

“Hey.” Stan replied. He felt weirdly shy. He wasn’t sure why but for the last few days it just felt like he wasn’t in sync with his twin. He just kept misstepping. 

And now every time he misstepped Ford ended up hanging with Dipper. 

“That was brilliant.” Ford finally said. “I can’t believe you managed that roll. I thought we were dead.” He flushed and lowered his eyes. “I, uh, shouldn’t have doubted you.”

He felt himself walking taller. It wasn’t an apology but it was close enough.

“Sorry I wouldn’t give your game a chance. It doesn’t look like it was that bad. Still a little nerdy for my taste but perfect for you.”

“Maybe I can show you some more after Ducktective? Do you think we’ll make it in time for the second showing?”

Stan found he didn’t really care. He was just happy to be walking with Ford.


	21. The Last Mabelcorn: Oh Man Indeed

Stan was tying his sneakers when he heard Dipper call. 

“Family Meeting! Family Meeting!”

He looked at their shared desk to see Ford fully engrossed in his book. For a wild moment, he considered ignoring the summons. If he did Ford wouldn’t hear. Ford was in another world when he was in a book. It took a physical shake to draw him out typically.

However, Dipper calling for a family meeting was a new thing. He gave a mental shrug and shook his brother. Ford blinked confusedly as Dipper’s voice rang in the air again. 

“Family Meeting in the dining room!”

“Huh?” Ford shoved himself away from the desk while Stan finished tying his shoe.

“I don’t know. He just started shouting it.” He followed his brother out of the room and they ran down the stairs.

“No running!” Mabel shouted as they darted past. She laughed and chased after them. Dipper was standing in front of the table with a serious expression. Though, Stan hadn’t seen him with anything but a serious expression yet. He had piled some rolled sheets of paper and what looked like two potion bottles on the table.

“Yer wizards, boys.” Mabel stated in a bad impression of Hagrid. Stan snorted and took a seat at the table while Ford peered at the scrolls.

“Ah,” Dipper stated. “Kids.” He pulled open one of the scrolls and flattened it. “Do either of you recognize-”

They didn’t wait for him to finish. Both of them and Mabel said, in unison, “Bill!”

“He tried to take the Mystery Shack!” Stan exclaimed.

“He terrorized us a few weeks ago.” Ford added darkly. Stan opened his mouth to tell what had actually happened before clicking it shut again. He couldn’t explain with Mabel right there. She didn’t know and he didn’t care to think about how badly it would freak her out. 

Dipper did a dramatic double take. He plopped down in the chair and swayed a little as he grabbed the table. Mabel’s hands moved towards him before she shoved them in her pocket.

“Oh man.” He muttered. He looked up and met each of their eyes individually. “The fact that you’re aware of Bill is  _ really _ bad.”

Stan wanted to say no shit but he held the urge in. He knew Mabel didn’t like any kind of language.

“How do you  _ know _ Bill?” Ford asked softly.” His eyes were big and nervous.

“I've encountered a lot of dark creatures in my time, Ford.” He shrugged. Stan couldn’t help but notice Mabel was giving her brother an annoyed look. “What matters is that his powers are growing stronger, and if he pulls off his plans, no one in this family will be safe!”

He shouted the last words and Stan couldn’t stop from jerking back at the loudness and Dipper’s sudden bigness. It was uncomfortable how much he could see a family resemblance between his pa and Dipper. Dipper’s face was kinder and a bit more open but he still had that stern set to his face.

“Thankfully, there should be a way to shield us from his mental tricks. A way to Bill-proof the Shack.” He unrolled another scroll that showed the Mystery Shack. “All I have to do is place moonstones here, here, and here, sprinkle some mercury, let's see... I always forget the last ingredient!” He pulled the first journal from his pocket and flipped through it’s pages. He peered at one intently and his entire body shuddered. “Ugh, unicorn hair.”

“Is that rare or something?” Ford asked. 

Dipper slumped back in his seat. “Unicorns reside deep within an enchanted glade, and their hairs can only be obtained by a pure good-hearted person who goes on a magical quest to find them.”

Mabel made a high pitched squealing sound that would have frightened Stan earlier in their summer. By now he was used to Mabel’s loudness and her exuberance. 

“Dipper! Please let me go on this quest! I LOVE unicorns!” She punched his arm. “You know that my first word was unicorn!”

“She is wearing a unicorn sweater.” Stan pointed out. Mabel nodded.

“Not to mention that I'm  _ probably _ the most pure of heart person in this room.”

All three boys nodded. 

“So can I go on a mission to get that hair? Please please please?”

“Sure, but it won’t be easy. They’re… Well… You’ll see. Take the crossbow and the journal.”

“Can I go with her?” Stan asked. He didn’t care about the unicorns but if she was going to need a crossbow he didn’t want her going by herself. 

Dipper shrugged. “Why not?”

Mabel snagged his hand and practically dragged him out of the room and towards the Gift Shop. She was mumbling something at a rapid speed Stan couldn’t decipher and seemed to be skipping. He hadn’t realized that old people could do that but it made sense Mabel would find a way. She slid into the shop and waved for Wendy and Fiddleford. 

“Come on! Come on!” She squealed. “Close the shop! We’re going to find  _ Unicorns. _ ”

Wendy laughed while Fiddleford snorted in amusement. Neither of them moved to stop what they were doing. Wendy was propped on the stool leafing through her magazine. Fiddleford was dusting the shelves. 

“She’s serious.” Stan added after an awkward second of Mabel looking crestfallen. “Grunkle Dipper wants it for some… spell?”

Mabel shrugged. “Who cares why? We’re going to go find Unicorns! Come one!”

The two teenagers looked at each other. After a moment Wendy shrugged and dropped her magazine. 

“Sure, why not?” She took up her axe from where she hid it under the table and fastened it to her side. Fiddleford grabbed his toolbelt and fastened it around his waist. Mabel squealed and ran to fetch her purse. Stan already had all the supplies he needed. Thank you Gravity Falls for making him travel ready at all times. He did take a moment to grab a few snacks for the road. 

They set off in a clump with Wendy taking a slight lead. She swung her axe almost absently at things that were blocking them. Stan brought up the rear. Mabel and Fiddleford were chatting about some book that they used to read about magical creatures. 

He was holding the army knife his pa gave him and it felt weirdly heavy in his hands today. He wasn’t really sure why he’d bothered to bring it except that he never really bothered to take it out of his pocket. His pa had given it to him with the strict instructions to protect his family and he’d taken that order to heart. It had been useful a few times out here in Gravity Falls. Today however…

It wasn’t like he’d need it. They had Wendy. He was just shy of useless when it came to fighting with her around. She had a full on axe. His small army knife wasn’t going to be much use next to that. Not to mention she was taller and stronger and cooler. He was just Stan. Stupid, slow, only-good-at-punching Stan.

What was the point of being here if he couldn’t protect people? That was his main thing. If he didn’t have that, what was left?

\--------------

To Ford’s utter relief, there was only a minute or so of awkward silence after Mabel and his twin left the room. Dipper took a slow sip of his drink (tea?) and set it down purposefully. He blinked down at the blueprints he’d drawn on with a pronounced frown. 

“Did you say you’d had an encounter with Bill?”

Ford nodded his head stiffly. Dipper was still looking at the blueprints though so he wouldn’t have been able to see it.

“Yes.” His voice cracked a little and he felt his cheeks flush. Why could he  _ never  _ look cool around Dipper?

Dipper’s head lifted up and his brown eyes locked on Ford. “And did he try and make a deal with you?”

His cheeks grew warmer as he nodded his head. 

“Did you accept it?” Dipper asked. Ford nodded his head again. Dipper kept his gaze steady. “What was the deal?”

“He would help me get into a laptop in exchange for a puppet. Due to a bizarre series of circumstances I was quite literally surrounded by sock puppets at the time and believed he wanted to use one of them.” He swallowed thickly and gripped the bottom of his shirt in trembling fingers. “As you can probably guess, I was mistaken. He pulled me out of my body and possessed it.” His fingers traced along the scar on his opposite hand. Bill had done quite a number on his body for the short period of time he’d possessed it. The demonic entity had seemed quite angry at their family.

“How did you get your body back?”

“I tricked him. I was able to use a sock puppet and alert Stanley to the situation.” He hadn’t really done much of anything. It had been Stanley. Stanley who told him not to trust Bill and Stanley who had knocked Bill out of his body so he could get it back. It had even been Stanley who destroyed Bill’s sock puppet. 

Ford had gotten tricked and let himself be forced out of his own body. He hadn’t even been able to blame it on an illness. Stanley had been ill and had still seen Bill’s words for the lies they were.

“I see.” Dipper steepled his fingers together and Ford was worried he might actually see. That he might be aware of what an idiot Ford had been. It wasn’t the first time his curiosity had led him to make poor decisions but it was the first time it had caused such dire circumstances.

They sat in a heavy, awkward, silence for several minutes. Ford was wracking his brain in a nervous, sweaty, fit when Dipper finally broke it.

“The chances of Mabel procuring that unicorn hair are slim at best.”

His stomach dropped with alarm. “Is it dangerous for them? What are we going to do about Bill?”

Dipper shrugged. “I’ve had previous dealings with unicorns and they were… frustrating.” He exhaled wearily and pushed himself up from the table. “Follow me.”

Ford stumbled out of his chair and dashed after his great uncle. Dipper moved towards the break room. He punched in the code for the vending machine and it swung open. Ford followed him into the elevator. Dipper punched several buttons in a weird pattern and the elevator started to go down. Instead of heading towards the portal it went to a different floor. The doors slid open and Dipper strode forward confidently.

“Welcome to my lab. Even my sister doesn’t know about this room.”

The room was crowded with lab equipment, research notes, a wall of old computers, and a bulletin board loaded with pictures and notes all stringed together.

“Since we can’t keep Bill out of the shack, or your mind, we’ll simply have to make your mind unreadable.”

“How?” Ford asked as he wandered further into the room. He wanted to explore. The notes looked fascinating and there was some sort of experiment bubbling in a beaker that didn’t look natural. 

Dipper turned towards him with a metal cap that looked like it belonged in Dr. Frankenstien’s lab. Just the sight of it made a brief spike of guilt rise in his stomach. He’d really failed his twin with that halloween costume.

He shook the guilt away and examined the device. 

“This machine will scan your mind, bioelectrically encrypting your thoughts so that Bill can't read them.” He dropped it on Ford’s head and fastened the leather strap. If it had been anyone else but his Great Uncle, Ford would have been certain his brain was about to get fried. With his Great Uncle he was only mildly alarmed that it was going to happen.

“Is that what you did?” He asked as Dipper guided him to a chair. He sat down while his Great Uncle flipped a few switches.

“No. I had a metal plate installed in my head while I was in the multiverse.” The computers came whirring to life in front of them. Ford almost laughed but he realized Dipper had a serious expression on his face. His Great Uncle eyed him when he had the computers up and running properly. “Don’t worry,” he consoled, “this method is much safer. Get ready to see your thoughts.” Sure enough, words appeared on the screen. 

_ I can’t believe I’m in the Author’s secret Lab. I shouldn’t have lied to Stan. Fiddleford said he working on the car today… I wonder if he’ll take his shirt off again- oh! Crap! _

His cheeks heated up a blotchy, tomato, red and he felt himself cough in awkward dismay. Dipper politely averted his eyes. 

“Umm, so,” his voice cracked and he could have kicked something, “what is Bill, exactly?”

Dipper shrugged and turned a nob. “No one knows for sure. Accounts differ of his true motivations and origins.” He went towards a file that was leaning against one of the monitors. He picked it up and flipped through a few pages. “I know he's older than our galaxy and evil… He is the epitome of Chaotic Evil.” Dipper set the folder down and went towards the experiment. He picked up an object Ford couldn’t see. “Without a physical form, he can only project himself into our thoughts through the mindscape. That's why he wants  _ this.” _

He held up a small glass orb that had what looked like a small galaxy in it. It was a mobius shape with a prism like edge and inside the shape were stars and a strange swirling shape he couldn’t decipher. 

“It’s an interdimensional rift.” 

Ford sucked in a shocked breath and felt his stomach drop. Why was it just in a glass case?! If that dropped-oh god, Bill could get  _ into their world. _

“I dismantled the portal,” Dipper went on like he wasn’t holding the fate of their universe in his hands, “but with this tear, Bill still has a way into our reality. To get his hands on this rift, he would trick or possess anyone.” He locked eyes with Ford. A memory of Gideon summoning Bill popped up in his memories. That was the only deal he knew about. How many more might there be? How many people in this weird town would be willing to make a deal with a demon? They’d resulted to erasing their own memories after all.

“How did you meet Bill?” He settled back in the chair as he asked the question and he instantly knew he shouldn’t have asked it. Dipper went utterly rigid and the rift shook a little in his hands. 

“That’s not important.” His great uncle snapped. “What matters right now is that we encrypt your mind so Cipher can’t read it.”

Ford’s eyes darted to the monitor over his head. It hadn’t even completed 1% of the process yet.

\--------------

They almost ran into a hitch with summoning the magical unicorn portal. The book said that someone had to recite the druid incantation in a deep voice, which none of them had. Stan’s voice had only sort of started to break which was the opposite of deep. Fiddleford had already had his voice drop but it couldn’t really be described as deep. Neither could Mabel or Wendy’s. 

Thankfully, Fiddleford was an unstoppable nerd who happened to have a ‘drink’ that would lower his voice. Stan  _ really _ wanted to know why Fiddleford had something like that but he didn’t ask. 

He was inexplicably nervous to meet the unicorns. It was stupid, really. Up until a few hours ago he hadn’t even known unicorns were real. Now though, he was worried. Unicorns could apparently tell who was and wasn’t pure of heart. Stan wasn’t stupid. He knew he hardly qualified as pure of heart. He was a failure and a screw up. He had been a shipwreck since he was born and had just continued to get worse as he got older. Ford was better than him at everything, including pure-of-heartness. 

He wasn’t even sure he  _ wanted _ to be pure of heart. It sounded wimpy and lame. But…

He didn’t want Mabel to know what a mess he was. He wanted her to think he was special. He wanted her to think he was worthy of some stupid unicorn hair. 

Fiddleford finished the long winded enchantment and suddenly the ground below them was rumbling. There was a burst of bright light and then stonehenge appeared before their eyes. Mabel squealed with utter delight and jogged towards the glowing entrance to the unicorn land. Stan dashed after her with the other teenagers hot on his trail.

It was like stepping into Ford’s nerd game. One moment he was in Gravity Falls the next he was in a magical grove. There were fairies, satyrs, and an endless rainbow. More importantly, there was a unicorn.

It was the most ridiculous thing he’d seen. It was a perfect horse. It could have won any show with flying colors. It’s coat was a flawless white that shimmered slightly in the morning light. It had a long, flowing mane and tail that seemed to change colors as it moved. It’s horn flashed with color when it’s head moved and it had a tattoo on it’s back left leg that looked like three diamonds. It’s large eyes were purple and seemed to sparkle like starlight. 

It strode towards them and tossed it’s mane. “Hark!” A feminie voice echoed through the clearing. The unicorn’s horn flashed as she spoke. “Visitors to my realm of enchantment!”

Mabel squealed at an ungodly high pitch and clasped her hands together. “oh my gosh!” She jumped with the energy of a ten year old girl. “What’s your name?”

The unicorn stood all the taller. “I am Celestabellebethabelle, last of my kind.” She dipped her head respectfully. Stan didn’t think he’d ever heard a more ridiculous name. “Come in, come in. Just, take off your shoes. I have a whole thing about shoes.”

Stan looked at Wendy who made no move to take off her boots. Fiddleford crouched down to take his sneakers off while Mabel slipped off her orthopedic shoes. 

“Ah,ah!” The unicorn huffed. “I’m talking to everyone.” She made a point of looking at him and Wendy. He didn’t care if he ticked the unicorn off but he knew this meant a lot to Mabel. He slipped his shoes of grudgingly as Wendy did the same.

Mabel, who didn’t notice their minor shoe rebellion, strode towards Celestabellebethabelle. “Celestabellebethabelle,” she bowed respectfully, “we have journeyed far and wide on a mission to protect our family with your magical hair!”

Celestebellebethabelle nodded her head like she had expected as much. She straightened up and peered down at them “Very well. To receive a lock of my enchanted hair, step forth, girl of pure perfect heart.”

Girl? Did Fiddleford and him never stand a chance? Well… it was weirdly a relief. At least he couldn’t be pegged as a failure if he wasn’t even allowed to try. 

Mabel glanced at Wendy before striding forward. She threw her arms wide open and did a little jazz hand. 

“Presenting: Mabel!” 

Celestebellebethabelle reared her head back in shock and disgust. “What?” She demanded, “You? A unicorn can see deep inside your heart, child.” She enclined her snooty head and pointed her horn at Mabel’s sweater clad chest. Mabel gasped in discomfort as a glowing heart appeared on her sweater. 

Celestabelleabethabelle straightened. “And you have done wrong. WRONG I say!”

Stan’s mouth fell open. Wendy made an irritated noise. If Mabel, who was probably the genuinely nicest person Stan knew, wasn’t pure of heart then what the heck kind of chance did the rest of them have?

Mabel dropped her eyes and chewed her bottom lip. “I guess… I guess I was kind of responsible for Dipper’s disappearance… And, well, I haven’t done a great job of keeping you and your brother safe.” Her entire form seemed to deflate and Stan’s stomach dropped. 

The unicorn - who Stan now decided he hated - turned her head away like she couldn’t bear to even look at Mabel. “Your bad deeds make me cry!” A single tear fell from her eye and onto a flower. In the most over the top dramatic fashion the flower then shriveled up and died.

Mabel stepped back with a wail. 

Celestabellebethabelle reared up to her full height. “Come back when you're PURE OF HEART.” She stomped the ground and reared. “NEEEIIGGGHH!”

Then, like her over the top dramatics had never happened, she settled down and continued. “Exit is that way. Shoes, shoes, take your shoes. This isn't some... some... shoe store.”

They hurried out side with their shoes in tow. Tears were streaming down Mabel’s cheeks and Stan  _ hated _ it. His hands clenched into fists and his gut twisted in anger. He turned on his heel to storm back in that magical grove so he could give that unicorn a piece of his mind only to find that it had resealed itself. 

Fiddleford had his arm wrapped around Mabel’s back and was giving her a consoling hug while he murmured something to her. She was openly crying now and it shredded Stan’s gut apart. 

“But she’s  _ right. _ ” Mabel insisted into Fiddleford’s shoulder. “I’m not a kind person. I… I pretend to be good!” Wendy and Fiddleford both made loud sounds of protest. Stan couldn’t even speak. “No,” Mabel returned before they could actually put their protests to words. “I’m the reason Dipper got stuck in that place! It was my fault. And Stan,” She pulled back from Fiddleford enough so that she could look at him, “I’ve let you get in danger! I-I nearly lost you to a  _ dinosaur _ because I wanted Waddles back! How can that be considered pure of heart?”

“But she’s a liar!” Stan sputtered. He hurried up to her and grabbed her hand. She had it curled in a fist so he just wrapped his hand around it. “It was my fault about Waddles. I-I did bad things and almost cost you Waddles.”

“That’s not your call, Gumball.” Mabel stuttered. She gave her head a hard shake and pushed away from Fiddleford. 

The inventor frowned. “Well,” he hummed to himself, “what if we just do something good? Something to negate those ‘bad’ deeds?”

Mabel stopped and turned towards him. She blinked slowly like it was a difficult idea ot absorb. Fiddleford went on unperturbed. 

“There’s lotsa stuff we could do around town. I’m pretty sure Mr. Wentworth’s garden needs weeding. And Toby always needs help fixing his sign. Not ta mention the animal shelter is always lookin’ for volunteers to walk the dogs.”

Mabel perked up immediately. “Oh! We could plant a tree in the park as well! Ooh! We could pay for some parking meters!” Fiddleford nodded encouragingly and grabbed her hand. They started back towards the town hand in hand.

“Hey,” Wendy whispered to him. He hadn’t noticed her moving towards him. “You and I both know that horse was lying.”

“Obviously.” He huffed. Mabel was a saint. As far as he was concerned that horse could go to the glue factory.

“There’s no way she could tell what type of heart Mabel had. If this ‘good deed’ nonsense doesn’t work then I say we…” She glanced over to make sure Mabel and Fiddleford couldn’t hear her, “ _ acquire _ some of the hair ourselves.”

Stan felt a large grin lift his lips. That sounded like a much better plan.

\--------------

Doing good deeds was stupidly time consuming. It was also hot, sweaty work. Not that Stan really noticed the sweating. He was always at least a little sweaty. It bothered Ford that they’d gotten sweatier as they’d gotten older but Stan couldn’t care less.

The only upside to the ‘good deeds’ was that he got to see Susan. She brought them chocolate malts and he got to chat with her while they pulled weeds. It was unpleasantly hot outside but he hardly noticed.

At the moment, Mabel was presenting herself to Celestabellebethabelle again. 

“You’re not pure of HEART!” The unicorn declared in a way-too-loud voice. She jumped back from Mabel like she was contagious and stomped her hoofs. Mabel staggered backwards.

“That’s it!” Wendy loudly declared. “We’re done listening to you rant about your pure of heart nonsense!”

“Yeah!” Stan stomped to her side and crossed his arms over his chest.

“How dare you-“ He never heard what the stuck up horse was going to say because two more unicorns trotted into the clearing. All four humans gaped at the new unicorns in shock. Celestabellebethabelle flushed a bright pink.

“What’s up, C-beth?” A blue unicorn asked with a curious tilt of his head.

“This unicorn is trying to scam us!” Stan instantly belted. The unicorn flushed again and stomped her foot.

“I am not!”

“Wait, are you trying to pull that old scam again, C-beth?” The red unicorn asked.

“Shut up!” Celestabellebethabelle snapped. She glared at the other unicorns before returning her angry gaze to Stan. “You don’t even qualify as pure of heart, you… you hooligan!”

“Hey,” Mabel’s tone was dark. It made Stan still and feel like he was about to get the mother of all lectures. “Don’t you  _ dare _ insult my nephew.”

“He’s a walking insult!” Celestabellebethabelle growled. “He’s obviously a troublemaker!” She huffed and tossed her mane. “I’ll insult him all I want. What are you gonna do about it, huh, huh? What are ya gonna do?”

Mabel swung her fist.

\--------------

Ford was fairly certain he had never been so bored in such an interesting place. It was maddening. He was stuck in one place with pretty much all the answers about Gravity Falls just outside of his reach. There was a file on Bill Cipher on the console approximately two feet away from the full extent of his arm. A journal he hadn’t gotten to read was setting on the table across from him. There was a shelf full of books on the supernatural and fantastic and he couldn’t reach  _ any _ of it.

It wouldn’t have been quite so maddening if Dipper hadn’t fallen asleep within an hour of hooking him up to the machine.

He was so bored and the file on Cipher was so close. He just had to get inventive. He could probably find something in his-

“GRAPPLING HOOK!” The machine shouted his thought out as soon as it popped in his head. He jumped in surprise and sat stiffly for a moment to see if he’d just inadvertently woke Dipper up. His Great Uncle didn’t move. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and shuffled closer to the file. He reached the end of his cord and pulled the grappling hook from his pocket. He released the hook and rope and tugged a few feet out. He waited a moment and then tossed it at the file. It landed on just the other side of the file. He pulled the rope towards him gently and had to force himself not to get excited when the hook caught the file and dragged it closer. His fingers wrapped around the file and he pulled it into his lap.

The first page in the folder was a charcoal rubbing of a relief. The relief was of Bill Cipher raising his hands in the center of a circle with different symbols around him. He studied it for a moment before flipping to the next page.

It was written like the journal pages. He recognized the familiar, cramped, handwriting as Dipper’s. He scanned the page and found himself unable to process what he’d just read.

It was in  _ praise _ of Bill. Rereading the passage didn’t change the cheerful tone at all. The more he read the more he felt his stomach drop and twist and churn. His Great Uncle was fond of the demon. He’d  _ summoned _ him. He’d made a deal with him and allowed him access to his mind!

He built the portal for Bill.

_ To get his hands on this rift, he would trick or possess anyone. _

His eyes shot over to his Great Uncle only to find that Dipper was no longer at the table. A hand settled on his shoulder and made him scream. He jerked back from the hold and fell out of the chair. The hat came with him, tearing itself away from the computer with a terrible crackling noise. Dipper was towering over him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dipper demanded of him. He couldn’t see his Great Uncles eyes. There was just the glow of what remained of his thoughts.

“I-“ He couldn’t think of what to say. The file was clutched tightly in his fingers and his heart was rabbiting in his chest. Bill would possess anyone to get the rift. Anyone.

The rift!

He sprang clumsily to his feet and took the half step necessary to reach the table. He grabbed up the rift and cradled it to his chest. This was their only hope. He had to keep it away from Bill.

“Give that to me!” Dipper snapped. Ford stumbled backwards. His hip hit the chair and sent it into the bookshelf. It wobbled a little. “Now!”

“You were friends with Bill!” He gasped. He couldn’t even believe it as he spoke. He couldn’t breathe past the panic building in his throat. It was a living thing, the fear. It pulsed and grew with every second. It was determined to suffocate him and trap him. His Great Uncle was huge. Ford hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet and he was unquestionably the scrawnier twin. He’d gotten stronger this summer but he couldn’t fight his uncle. He’d never been able to even fight someone his own size. And this… this was too much like those night when Pa drank too much-

Dipper stepped towards him and seemed to get taller. He felt like a hobbit trying to fight Gandalf.

“You built the portal for him!” His traitorous voice cracked with his fear and went unbelievably high. There was no Stanley here. No one to help him.

“Give me the rift!” Dipper ordered. Ford backed up and tripped on a carpet. He fell to his butt and squeaked with horror when he realized the carpet contained a large icon of Bill Cipher.

He hugged the rift to his chest and shuffled backwards. There was no time to bother getting up. Dipper was too close.

“Stop!” Dipper dove forward with startling speed and snagged his arm. A scream of utter terror tore itself from his throat. He was jerked forward and towards Dipper’s chest. A hand wrapped itself around his back and hauled him to his feet. “What are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?”

“Let me go!”

“NO!” His uncle roared the word and gave him a little shake. Ford gaped up at him in terror and saw that his glasses had gotten knocked down his nose. His eyes were brown. There wasn’t any yellow.

But… That didn’t mean he wasn’t in league with Bill. It just meant-

“Ford, calm down! I’m not working with Bill! I was tricked!” The Author took a step backwards and dragged Dipper with him. He gentled his hold so he was no longer hurting Ford’s arm. “You almost fell on that vat of chimera venom.”

He was shaking and couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t even bring himself to look and see if the experiment was behind him.

“You can hold onto the Rift for now, just, please, hear me out?” Dipper released his hold on Ford and stepped back with his arms raised. Ford swallowed and tried to still his shaking.

\--------------

There triumphant entry with the unicorn hair was not as grand as he wanted it to be. Ford and Dipper were huddled together at the table with cups of tea and very forlorn looks. They waved the unicorn hair under Dipper’s nose and while he’d smiled, it just… hadn’t been particularly excited.

They’d then spent the next half hour applying first aid to their various battle wounds while Ford and Dipper put the nerd spell on the house. They all reconvened in the dining room where Wendy – who was by far the least injured of their party – had prepared sandwiches and chips.

“Alright,” Dipper declared importantly when they gathered. “As of now we cannot leave the safety of the shack without being on high alert.” He eyed each of them. “You cannot leave without first alerting me. Bill will have noticed the barrier by now and he’ll realize what it means.”

Wendy and Fiddleford hummed their agreement around mouthfuls of sandwich. Ford promised while Mabel crossed her heart. Stan focused on getting a sandwich. He was tired and angry. The unicorns were still weighing heavily on his mind. He blamed that for why he didn’t notice Dipper moving closer.

“Stanley.” Dipper’s tone wasn’t overly loud or even angry. It was just stern. It startled him and he went utterly rigid when he notice the tall, big man. “I need an agreement.” His hand moved and Stanley flinched.

“Yes sir.” He parroted the words without even registering them and made himself small. His fingers tightened around his sandwich and he suddenly felt a little sick.

He avoided eye contact for the rest of the meal and forced himself to down the sandwich quickly. He could feel his brother staring at him but he ignored that as well. The meal was finally finished and he was the first to excuse himself. He dashed away only to hear Mabel’s cheerful voice call after him.

“Gumball can you help me with some new stock? I can’t handle the boxes by myself.”

It sounded a little like a made up thing but he followed her anyway. She had a big bruise on her cheek and it made his heart twist every time he looked at her.

She led him to her office and motioned for him to go in. There were a stack of boxes in the corner that he started towards. Mabel caught him before he went more than a step.

“Sit down in the chair first, please.”

Shoot. He went to the chair as requested feeling like he was in trouble. He sat down while Mabel shut and locked the door. That would have freaked him out if it had been anyone else but her or Ford. Mabel was safe though. He wasn’t in danger. She wouldn’t hurt him. She’d punched out a unicorn for insulting him.

“Stan?” She turned towards him and his stomach dropped. There were tears welling up in her eyes. “You flinched.”


	22. Dipper and Mabel Vs The Future: nobody likes gettin' older

“You flinched.” Mabel’s voice was thick with tears in her eyes. Stan felt uncomfortably like he’d been caught doing something. There was a part of him that really wanted to get that door open again and dash out of the room. At least it locked on this side and didn’t require a key to unlock. 

Mabel was safe. He didn’t have to be afraid.

“I, uh, what?” He finally mumbled. It was the worst he’d ever managed. Normally he was convincing in redirecting attention.

“You flinched. When Dip-Dipper moved towards you. You flinched when he moved his hands.” Her voice broke and a sob left her lips. She dropped to her knees in front of Stanley and tugged him into her sweater clad chest. Panic was starting to make his throat feel tight. She couldn’t have noticed! He’d been so careful up to this point! 

“I wanted so badly to believe my nephew couldn’t be that horrible that I ignored the signs. But… He has, hasn’t he? That  _ monster.  _ He’s hit you. That monster has hurt you.” She wept the words into his hair and Stanley froze. His chest suddenly felt tight and he couldn’t get any air in his lungs. It didn’t feel like his heart was beating right. 

She knew. She  _ knew. _ What would she do? What must she think of him? It was too much. Oh god, he was going to be sick!

He pushed himself free and flung himself at the trashcan. He promptly emptied the contents of his stomach into it. Vomiting did nothing to ease the pressure in his chest and now he was dizzy as well. He sank to his knees as the world spun around him and started to lean. Mabel caught him before he could fall and pulled him back to her chest. 

“Hey, just ride it out. It’s going to be okay.” Her hand landed on his back and she rubbed it soothingly while her other arm wrapped around him in a partial hug. “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. It’ll help the nausea, I promise. I’m here. I gotcha. I won’t let you go.” She rocked him as she spoke. She held him tight and bent her head over his. He was suddenly sitting in her lap with her arms around him. 

Mabel was safe.  _ Mabel. Was. Safe. _

“I love you so much, Stanley. So much.” She nearly sobbed the words as she rocked him. “You are so brave. You are kind, and good and nothing you’ve done has ever warranted that.” She gasped and clutched him tighter. He wanted so badly to believe her. She was warm and solid and the only real thing in this horrible world. “I won’t let him hurt you again. Never again.” She shook her head fervently. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He wrapped his arms around her and didn’t bother to fight the burning sensation in his eyes. His tears cascaded down his cheeks as he buried his face in her sweater. He didn’t know what she intended to do - if she even could do anything - but he wanted to believe her.

\---------------------------

Ford was probably going to pass out from sheer excitement before the end of the day. Not only had Great Uncle Dipper trusted him to aid in the Unicorn Spell, he had also sought him out to explain about the rift.

Of course the rift was terrifying but that was small potatoes compared to how exciting it was to be trusted. 

He had been worried about his brother - Dipper was big and had startled him earlier which always embarrassed Stan- but that worry seemed distant now that Dipper was sitting in front of him with the damaged rift.

“Do you understand?”

“It needs to be repaired but we don’t have anything that is capable of repairing the cracks.” He answered politely and kept his hands folded on his lap. He was distantly aware that he had the same posture as when he was answering a question in class.

“Correct. This is a vitally important mission and you are the only one who can possibly help me.”

“What do we need to do?” He shouldn’t have sounded so excited but he couldn’t stop himself. He was practically vibrating with anticipation. The Author trusted him to help with something life changingly important. 

“Dipper?” Mabel’s voice called from the hall. Dipper frowned and turned towards his sister with an irritated look.

“What is it Mabel?”

She appeared in the dining room with a smile that was incredibly fake. Ford wouldn’t have been able to tell it was fake at the start of this summer but he could now. Mabel’s smiles were intoxicating and made her eyes dance. This was flat. 

Her eyes locked on Dipper. “Stanley and I are going into town for a little while. Can I borrow Ford as well?”

Dipper emphatically shook his head. “Absolutely not. I have need of him.”

Mabel frowned and worried her bottom lip. “Okay.... I, uh, need him to… That is, I want to…” She blinked and suddenly the frown was replaced with a broad smile but it still didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m going to get a few supplies for our birthday. It’ll be our 60th this year and I want to celebrate in style.”

“What?” Dipper looked irritated. Ford wondered momentarily if he realized his sister was lying. He disregarded the question. Mabel was Dipper’s twin. Of course he knew she was lying. 

“You heard me.” She quipped back with a bounce on her heels. “We’ll be gone for a while, probably. Wendy and Fiddleford can handle the shop for the rest of the day. If you need Ford, Stanley and I can manage on our own. Probably.” She shrugged. “Ford knows where all the food and stuff is so… don’t worry about anything. We’ll probably eat at Greasy’s.”

She nodded once and then strode purposefully out of the room. He could hear Stan say something in the other room and his voice sound small and not quite right. A spark of alarm uncurled in his stomach but he ignored it for now. 

“Very well, that works for us.” Dipper said as he turned his gaze back on Ford. “We need to go to a wreck and find some glue. Grab anything you need for a trek and meet me in the living room in ten minutes.”

Ford beamed and nodded his head.

\-----------------------------------

Dipper was not kidding. They ended up climbing part way up a mountain and treking through a lot of forest before he pointed towards a large indented area. 

“That’ll be it.” 

“What?” Ford couldn’t help but ask. Dipper smiled like he was about to share a secret. He pulled Ford’s keys off his belt loop and held it up so that the little ufo charm he had - one Fiddleford had given him - dangled in front of their eyes. 

“Did you,” Dipper began as he moved the charm, “ever notice how that mountain looked?” He lined up the keychain so that the ufo fit perfectly in the hole in the mountain. Ford felt his mouth pop open as his brain simply stuttered to a hard stop.

“Aliens?” he somehow managed to blurt out. Dipper nodded his head.

“Aliens.” He returned the keys to Ford and started down the hill towards the clearing. Ford scrambled to keep up. “I’m not certain if they crashed here because Gravity Falls attracts the strange or if they’re crashing here caused Gravity Falls to attract the strange. Either way, it’s here and abandoned. It crashed before anything lived here so the aliens - whatever they were - are extinct now.”

Aliens were real.  _ Aliens _ were  _ real. _

Everything was different now. This summer had proved that everything he’d thought he knew was wrong. The world was  _ so _ much stranger and fantastic than he had ever dared dream.

They climbed down the hill and Dipper showed him how to activate the trap door/escape hatch into the spaceship. He then gave him a magnet gun to glide down the broken ship into the main corridor. Dipper did the slide in one smooth motion. Ford nearly fell on three separate occasions and got horribly stuck. He did feel proud that he did better than Stanley would have. At least he didn’t have a fear of heights to work against.

Once they successfully reached the bottom of the ship Dipper led him on a mini tour. 

“The substance we need to seal the rift is an alien adhesive.” He explained while Ford tried to take a few pictures of the alien symbols on the wall. “It’s strong enough to keep the hull of a spacecraft together. Just one dollop of this adhesive should be enough to seal a crack in space-time. Also, if it touches you it will seal up all the orifices in your face, so try to avoid that.”

They wandered through the brilliant tunnels with the strange tech as they looked for the adhesive. Ford didn’t understand most of what he was looking for but didn’t let that stop him from taking as many pictures as he could. He’d catalog his findings later and enter them in his own journal. 

“The glue should be around here somewhere, so keep your eyes peeled.” Dipper murmured before pausing and looking at Ford. He’d just stopped to investigate a lever and was making a note about the way it looked like it would be operated by some sort of tentacle. “Ford,” his uncle began, “let me ask you something. Have you thought much about your future?”

Ford shook his head and tried to resist his blush. He didn’t do much but think about the future. “Not really. I mean, beyond graduating high school with a high GPA so I can get accepted to a good technical college with a degree in chemistry and veterinary medicine so I can continue my experiments. Once I’ve completed that I’ll obtain six PHDs in a variety of subjects so that I can investigate the paranormal and unusual and prove the existence of all the fantastic creatures I’ve seen.” He felt a twinge of guilt when he pictured Stanley’s stun expression. His brother didn’t know anything about those ambitions. He thought that Ford simply wanted to go sailing around the world like him. He’d never quite had the guts to tell him that he wanted to change the world, not simply look at it. 

Dipper laughed with gusto. It sounded like he was impressed and amused by Ford. “That’s what I like to hear! It’s as though I’m talking to a younger version of myself. If you're so sure of what you want out of life, why wait until you graduate?” He leaned closer and smiled down at Ford. “Why put up with the drudgery of school?”

Ford smiled and felt embarrassed. He’d thought this out so carefully and now Dipper made it sound like he’d missed something. 

“I mean, I’d love to skip straight to the research but it’s not as if there’s a choice.” 

Dipper straightened dramatically to his full height. “I’ve been thinking. I'm getting too old to investigate Gravity Falls on my own. I need to train an apprentice to help me fight monsters, solve mysteries, and protect this town.” He stalled and glanced down at Ford. “And I think I'd--I'd like to keep it in the family.”

His heart lodged itself in his throat. He couldn’t be hearing what he thought he was hearing. “What do you mean?”

Dipper looked at him seriously. “Ford, I've read your additions to my journal and I'm impressed with your potential. What would you say to staying in Gravity Falls after the summer ends and becoming my apprentice?”

Ford stared up at him with out fully comprehending. “W-what about school?” 

Dipper sighed. “Ford, I have 12 PhDs. Your parents would be thrilled I could give you such an advanced education.”

Ford almost said yes until he remembered the obvious problem. “What about Stanley? That’d leave him all alone in New Jersey.”

Dipper snorted. “Your brother is charismatic and creative. He’ll be fine on his own.”

Ford shook his head. Dipper didn’t know everything. He didn’t know what their pa was like or how much everyone hated them- no. How much everyone hated Ford. Stanley wouldn’t have a reason to intervene if Ford wasn’t there.

“We’ve uh, never really been apart before.” He admitted quietly. He couldn’t imagine how his brother would react. Ford was different than Stanley, of course, but even he’d be shocked if their situations were reversed. 

“And isn’t it  _ stifling _ ?”

Ford blinked. He had never really thought about it like that. Stanley was his best friend and the only person who really understood him. It could be annoying never having anything that was just his but… he probably wouldn’t use the term stifling. Their home certainly was but that wasn’t Stanley’s fault. Gravity Falls had proven that. 

“Can you honestly say you don’t feel as though you were meant for something more?”

Ford didn’t know what to say. 

\---------------------------------------

Stan had never been so uncomfortable. Well, that was probably an exaggeration but he wasn’t happy. He was currently sitting outside of a sterile office in a squeaky and uncomfortable chair. There was no art on the white walls and he was currently the only one in the waiting room except for the receptionist who wasn’t the friendliest looking of women.

Mabel had been talking to someone in another office for at least an hour now. 

Stan might not be smart but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that whatever she was doing, it was going to change everything. More than this summer had changed him, this would change their future. She was almost certainly filing a report of some kind. She was going to get someone (was it Child Protective Services or was that only a thing in tv?) to investigate their parents. He didn’t doubt Ma would get out fine, she’d never hurt them. But their pa? Well… if he did get out of it Stan didn’t want to think about what his life would be like. 

If they believed her then what would happen? Would he be allowed to live with ma? Would they just stick his pa in therapy?

Not knowing was terrible. Almost as bad as just sitting in this room. His mind kept going over the worse option. His Pa found out that he had told and Stan’s life got  _ worse. _ What if he tried to take it out on Ford and Ma? What if he did something when Stan wasn’t there to try and protect them?

Would ma agree to running away? He’d grab Ford and bolt in a heartbeat if things got bad. He just… he didn’t want to leave his ma to that. 

(Where would he go if he bolted? The Stan O’ War? He couldn’t very well get back to Gravity Falls.)

“Well,” Mabel’s voice was shockingly loud in the oppressively quiet room, “that was longer than I anticipated.” She offered him a soft smile and held out her hand for him. He took it without really thinking and she pulled him up. The receptionist was pointedly not looking in their direction so he allowed her to hug him.

“What now?” 

“Now,” Mabel said slowly, “we’re going to Greasy’s. We’re getting pie and ice cream. I’m not going to lie to you, there are going to be some  _ hard _ talks coming up but not right now.” She squeezed him a little closer and he let himself relax against her warmth. Her arms felt intoxicatingly safe. He hadn’t realized until recently how rarely in his life he’d actually felt safe. 

“Hey,” she dropped a kiss to the top of his messy hair, “you’ve been really brave today. Come on, let’s go pig out. There isn’t anyone around to tell us we can’t have dessert before dinner.”

He smiled against her sweater and let go. She released him after another moment and looped her arm comfortably around his shoulders. 

They left the office and wandered down the streets of Gravity Falls. Moses, he was going to miss everything about this weird town. The people, the shops, the vibe. He’d fallen in love with it at some point. It had so much personality.

Mabel steered him into Greasy’s and to a booth at the back. Susan was waiting tables and perked up the moment she saw him. She gave a small wave and bit her bottom lip to suppress a smile. Soos was sitting at the counter with his grandma and waved eagerly when he saw them. Stan waved back at them both and tried to ignore the gloom that sank on him. He only had another week in this town. That was barely any time. 

“What can I get you two today?” 

“Two slices of pie and ice cream, please.” Mabel responded with a broad smile. Stan nodded his head in consent. Susan had something shimmery on her lips today and he found himself staring at her.

She looked at Stan bashfully and headed back towards the kitchen. 

“I should invite them over for our sixtieth birthday.”

He stirred his straw around in his glass of ice water and glanced up at her. “Huh?”

Mabel smiled kindly. “I told Dipper we were gathering supplies for our sixtieth birthday party.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t see a reason to tell him everything yet and our birthday is in a few days. I figured he’d believe me. We used to plan extravagant birthday parties together.”

“Your birthday’s comin’ up?” He took a sip of his drink and tried not to gape at her. He knew she was old but he didn’t realize she was sixty. That seemed like a million years old. He wasn’t sure he’d ever met someone that old. 

He knew she was giving him something to talk and think about other than the report and he was grateful for it. 

Why had she told them she had a birthday coming up? Mabel took any excuse to throw a party. 

“Yep. I haven’t really celebrated it a lot with…” She sighed to a stop and looked into her cup as though it could give her answers. Stan understood what the reason was. He was a twin too. He couldn’t imagine celebrating his birthday alone. 

“So do we need to get supplies or somethin’? And who do we need to invite?”

“Invite?” Susan asked politely as she set a slice of pie down in front of both of them. She’d given them double scoops of ice cream as well. Stan plastered on his best smile for her. 

“Yes, invite. I’m having a birthday party this weekend if you would like to come.” She raised her voice a little, “you too, Soos!” They both accepted eagerly, Susan with a pretty blush coloring her cheeks. Stan found himself caught staring at her again. 

“That’ll be fun.” Susan returned bashfully. “I’d love to. Will it be for just you or... “ She paused and looked around to see if anyone was nearby who might overhear. 

“No, it’ll be a full birthday celebration.” Mabel gushed. “I’m not going to make it an all out bash but it’ll be fun.”

“Then I’d love to come.” 

“Me too!” Soos called eagerly. Stan took a bite of his pie so he wouldn’t have to talk. He was starting to feel ill.

\-----------------------

“Will you go find Ford? I need to chat with him.” Mabel ruffled his hair as she spoke and gave his shoulder a squeeze with his other hand. They’d just finished bringing in the party supplies and it was getting pretty late.

“Uh.... Sure.”

“Thank you.” She released his hair and shoulder. “I’ll make us some cookies and hot chocolate, okay?”

“Sure.” He turned around and went to the dining room but it was empty. Their bedroom was empty as well. He wouldn’t have left without telling Stan. Probably. 

Stan decided that he was probably in the basement doing super secret nerdy stuff with Dipper. It didn’t take more than a moment to punch in the code for the secret door. He rode the elevator down and slipped into the control room and glanced at the displays. He could see an image of Ford and Dipper fiddling with something in the lab portion of the basement. The audio was on. The third Journal was sitting on the table next to the keyboards and he found his hands running along it absently as he listened to what his brother and uncle were saying.

“Listen to me, Ford: this town is a magnet for things that are special. And that includes you and me.” His Great Uncle dropped a hand on Ford’s shoulder and peered down at him intently. Something turned in Stan’s stomach. Some instinct was telling him he needed to get away. That he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear. “It brought both of us here for a purpose! Stay here with me, Ford. Become my apprentice.” He motioned towards the room around them. “I can teach you so much! Leave Jersey behind. You don’t need it. Don’t let anyone hold you back!

Ford looked up at the scientist and smiled. “Alright.” He breathed out. “I’ll do it. I’m… I’m going to stay. Stan will understand. It’ll be better this way.”

Stan’s gut shredded and he made a choked noise. He couldn’t inhale or move any of his limbs. 

He wasn’t safe. There was no where safe. His father was going to find out about the report and Ford was going to abandon him!

There was a roaring in his ears as he slumped over the control panel. Stars burst across his vision and he was aware of a keening sound past the roaring that he was certain was coming from his throat. 

“Stanley?” His head snapped up but he couldn’t see anything clearly as he stumbled backwards and away from the control panel. He slipped and fell to the ground with a thud that made his back and butt ache.

“Stanley,” Ford asked again with a bit of alarm in his voice, “are you alright?”

“Is it true?” He gasped out and couldn’t recognize his own voice. The panic was trying to swallow him.

“Is what true?” Ford stepped nearer with outstretched hands.

“That you’re taking an apprenticeship? That you’re staying here after summer?” His tone was heavy with accusation and his voice shook. The blackness was threatening to take over. 

“It’s an opportunity I can’t pass up, Stanley.” He said it matter of factly and suddenly the fear and panic was anger.

“What do you mean you can’t pass it up? What about the Stan O’ War? What about all our plans?”

“You can’t be serious! Sailing around the world is not a viable life plan. I can be something in Gravity Falls! I can finally reach my potential, Stanley!”

“You’re going to leave me behind, you jerk! It’s supposed to be you and me forever!” He stumbled to his feet and shoved his brother back. Tears were streaming freely down his face and he could hardly breathe. He couldn’t see anything. His stupid, useless eyes! Why did nothing about him ever work?!

Ford bellowed and charged at Stan. He knocked him backward and into the terminal. Pain, roaring and intense lit the entire left side of Stan’s body. He screamed from the searing pain as his skin boiled and burned. He tore himself from the wall and clutched at his shoulder. He was moaning but he couldn’t control that. He’d never felt such pain. He’d broken his arm, his leg, his rib, even his nose. He’d been cut and bruised and hit in a hundred different ways but  _ this  _ was pain. Once, on a really,  _ really _ bad day his dad had even stuck him with the end of cigarette. But this? This was so much worse than any of that. His skin was bubbly and hot and made him scream to touch. At the same time every instinct in his body was screaming at him to cover and protect his injury because he was in a fight. His entire body jerked when he got his hand near it. He smelt something terrible and realized it was probably his  _ cooking  _ flesh.

“Stan, Stan! Oh my god, I-I-I’m so sorry! Are you alright?!” Rage mixed with the pain and he reacted in the way he had been trained. He brought his left arm around with all his might and hit Ford square in the face. His brother went reeling back as Stan stood up. He could hardly see. Tears and pain had blinded him. His brother, the one person on this stupid planet he thought he could trust had betrayed him. He was going to abandon Stan and he didn’t even care. He didn’t care that Stan would have to lose everything. Visit him indeed. There was nothing for him in New Jersey if Ford wasn’t there. No one gave a damn about him over there. He couldn’t face that bus ride alone. He couldn’t stay in that room alone. He couldn’t go back to their pa. Not alone. Always alone. A half that couldn’t be whole. Someone everyone abandoned. He was no good. Dumb. Stupid and ugly and useless. A waste of space and a thousand other horrible things people said to him

Worthless.

He’d taken countless hits for Ford. Endless pain and attacks just so his brother would be safe. Because Ford was what mattered. Stan apparently didn’t matter at all. Ever. Not even to Ford. The apprenticeship was what mattered. Dipper was what mattered. Ford’s,  _ gifted, special, bright, perfect  _ future was what mattered. Stan could just go to hell.

“Fine!” He snarled with all the pain and hurt in his body. He picked the book up where it had fallen. The stupid journal. Book 3. The one they had found together on that God forsaken day. He shoved it as hard as he could at his brother. His shoulder roared in pain and he staggered. Everything was blurry but he could make out his brother’s shape. 

“Fine!” He repeated, “If all you care about is your internship and this damn research, then take it.” Ford fell down to the ground with the force of Stanley’s shove and stared up at him in shock. The tears were falling now but Stan couldn’t feel them. Even his arm seemed numb. There was no point in anything. No point at all.

He didn’t wait for a reply from Ford. There was nothing left to say. He ran out of the room with his shoulder throbbing at each jarring step. He ran on memory because he couldn’t see. Mabel was waiting at the top of the stairs. She was holding a cup of cocoa and a box of cookies. He collided with her, spilling the cocoa all over the floor. The mug fell with a damning shatter. He was just an accident waiting to happen. Everywhere he went, things were destroyed. He was a screw up. A loser. A useless waste. Just a spare. Utterly unnecessary.

Mabel didn’t even seem to notice the broken mug. “Stanley! Oh my God, what happened? Are you-” He didn’t answer. He pushed past her and ran for the exit. He grabbed his backpack where it was by the door and ran for the forest. 

He wasn’t coming back.

\-----------

Ford realized with horror as his brother marched towards him, that he had never been properly hit before. He’d tussled with Stan, they were brothers after all and often disagreed, but he hadn’t realized how much his brother had always held back. He’d even watched him in the ring with other boxers. His brother could throw a hell of a punch. He’d never seen that focus and power directed at himself before. Because in all this world, Ford was the one person Stan always protected.

“Fine!” His brother snarled with a dark look. There were tears streaking down his face and that was nearly as shocking as the punch had been. The smell of burnt cotton and flesh was still heavy in the air. 

_ Oh God _ . He had  _ branded _ his brother. He had permanently marred him. He was going to be sick. Stan would carry that mark for the rest of his life. He had permanently disfigured his brother. Stan had scars, several of them, but none that Ford had caused. He tried to think of words to say. Tried to say anything through his throbbing lips. He couldn’t even make a sound.

He had hurt Lee. He was supposed to be the one that bandaged the wounds, never cause them.

“Fine! If all you care about is your internship and this  _ damn _ research, then take it!” Ford tried to raise his hands in defense but there wasn’t a need. Stan shoved the book at Ford’s chest, wincing in pain as he did so. 

He fell to the ground with the force of Stanley’s shove. There was a look in his brother’s eyes that freaked Ford out. The spark of defiance in Stan’s eye had completely faded. There was a broken, dead, glaze instead. He sat up right and tried to say something as Stan turned on his heel. He couldn’t find words and then his brother was fleeing. His face was on fire but that didn’t matter now. Stanley was getting away. He was leaving and he didn’t understand. He thought that he wasn’t important but he wasn’t getting that Ford needed this research. He had nothing if he didn’t have that. But he hadn’t meant to hurt him. It was Bill. They had to stop that demon. Dipper and Ford were the only ones who could do it. 

Stan wasn’t worthless but they had to destroy this demon. This was Ford’s big chance. It was too important to give up.

He struggled to his feet just in time to see Dipper come around the corner.

“What’s going on in here? What’s the screaming?” His Great Uncle saw him and started. “Ford, your face! What happened?”

“St-Stan!” He stuttered. He stumbled forward and nearly fell. “He, he heard what we were talking about.”

“I take it he didn’t handle it well?” Dipper asked sadly. Ford shook his head. His cheek was already swelling. 

“I have to find him. I have to explain-”

“We’ll find him, I promise. We just have to fix the rift first. Do you have it?”

“I, uh.” He paused to try and remember. Where had he put his backpack? Oh. The front door. “I left it in my backpack. I think it’s upstairs. 

“Okay. Let’s get it.” Dipper guided him towards the steps. “We should probably get you some ice too. That’s quite a shiner.”

“Yeah.” Ford said sadly. “He’s got a good left hook.”


End file.
